


Crossroads

by Xythia



Category: NCIS, The Sentinel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, Crossover, M/M, Sentinel/Guide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-03-12 05:05:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 35,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3344669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xythia/pseuds/Xythia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dr. Anthony Dinozzo was accustomed to never being good enough. Not useful enough to be loved by his father, not fit enough after his football injury to become a professional player, not qualified anymore to become a Law Enforcement Officer either and even his Sentinel refused to bond with him. But he was an exceptional father and if the safety of his child depended on a stable bond? Leroy Jethro Gibbs better accustom himself to having a damaged Guide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the Rough Trade November challenge (50k words). I had to back out due to health reasons. This story is not beta read, I corrected some mistakes and re-wrote some scenes but it is basically the same story: What would have happened to our favorite characters if Kelly Gibbs survived and Tony's leg was hurt worse? Add in Sentinels and Guides and mayhem, et voilá!

It could be called idyllic, straight out of a novel: old trees with colorful foliage, birds singing in the background, the wind playing with the fallen leaves, the sun- well, the sun was currently hiding behind heavy clouds but this was a recent development, it had been sunny for the other four days of this trip. For someone who actually liked hiking Kelly wanted to be out of these woods rather desperately and the main reason for her misery wasn’t even ten years old.  
  
“We are going in The Wrong Direction.” Every step was accentuated by stomping and a mutinous glare at the offending dirt path. As if the poor trampled earth and plants deserved the additional abuse. It might have been intimidating if it hadn’t come from a little boy; or if it hadn’t been said before. A few dozen times!  
  
Kelly gave her charge a small shove. She never should have volunteered to help look after the cub scouts on this excursion. Most of the boys were rambunctious but overall well behaved. After a few hours of hiking they didn’t have enough energy to cause problems. “Less talking, more walking.”  
  
Of course the little contrary menace she’d been saddled with didn’t speed up but slowed down instead. This way they would never close the gap to the main group. It was a miracle nobody had backtracked to search for them yet.  
“Sure, more walking in the wrong direction!” The boy snapped at her.  
  
“What would you know about it? You’re seven and a total city kid.” Kelly remembered the ruckus he had made when he had to hand over his cellphone and any other electronic devices before they started the hike. She tried to prod him again but he ducked and avoided her touch. “That’s why you’re here, to learn about Nature. See some real animals and plants-”  
  
“Like mosquitos?!,” he interrupted her. “That’s the only sort of animal I’ve met here. And I might be seven, but I’m smart, I skipped two grades. And I don’t care about trees, they all look the same: boring.”  
  
“Fat chance that you’d see even a hare, never mind a deer! All of the animals fled because of your constant complaining. If you don’t want to be a cub scout, then why are you here? Scouts are all about nature and hiking and…” Kelly had to give credit where credit was due, his pout was champion grade. “Look kid- what’s your name by the way?” If anyone had ever mentioned it to her, she had forgotten it.  
  
“My mum insisted that I participate, she doesn’t want me to be a total geek.” He mumbled and plopped down on the ground and fiddled with his shoelaces. “I’m Michael.”  
  
“Ok. Michael. Your probable inability to distinguish between a fir and an oak doesn’t inspire confidence in your judgment concerning the correct direction. Now, off the ground and double time it to reach the others before it begins to rain!” Kelly shouted the last part, arms akimbo.  
  
Her famous gunny-mode got her another unimpressed glare but no movement. Kelly was ready to throw the midget over her shoulder and carry him. The dark, heavy clouds did indeed look like they would open their proverbial gates and drench them any minute. The camp should be just around the corner, according to Miss Judy’s promises during their midday meal. In her mind’s eye Kelly imagined the members of the main group already relaxing in their tents, preparing the campfire – being comfortable! - while she was stuck out here. They would have to find another herder for Michael tomorrow.  
  
“Did the big words hurt your mouth?” Michael mocked.  
  
“You-“  
  
Faint screaming made both of them quit their fight to turn and stare.  
  
The sound was filled with sheer terror. Kelly knew this sort of noise, could never mistake it for anything else. It pulled her back in time and made her stomach tighten painfully. When her memories released her from their stranglehold she was alone. Michael was already far ahead, running full out in direction of their group, his colorful sneakers were throwing dirt in the air.  
  
“Shit.” Head-start or not, her longer legs ate up ground. It seemed like mere seconds before she was on a level with the kid and they reached the opening in the tree-line to the supposed camping ground. Supposed, because Kelly had never seen an established one without at least a secured fireplace and a primitive outhouse. None of those standard amenities were present; instead this clearing sported four jeeps and half a dozen armed men in addition to Kelly’s Scout group. Kelly snatched Michael, who was wheezing and whimpering, and dragged him into a group of bushes before he could do something stupid.  Hopefully none of the armed men had heard them and the bushes still had enough colorful leaves to hide the two children.  
  
The other kids and their caretakers were huddled together in the area of the clearing that was farthest away from the path.  
  
One of the criminals - easily identified as a baddie because no adult near kids should have reason to carry a bigass, ugly gun in one hand- was gesticulating and weaving a clipboard around with the other hand. Another gunman, clad in professional camouflage gear, was organizing the hostages into groups. Kelly guessed that the one with the clipboard and the more stylish clothes was the brains of the operation and the other men were the grunts. Any minute and they would know that two people were missing. The hunt would be on.  
  
Mother Nature showed some compassion with the hideaways and added a sudden downpour to the miserable situation, giving the criminals more immediate things to do than count kids. The man with the clipboard shoved it into his back bag and bellowed instructions to his henchmen. Two hurried to the vehicles and unloaded stuff, the others remained on their positions. The sixth man-  
  
Huh. Kelly narrowed her eyes. The sixth man was standing separate and was holding a small figure. The rain was coming down hard and made it difficult to see details but Kelly guessed by the long hair and the height that the hostage was one of her fellow female Scout Leaders in training and that narrowed it down; Gracie or Liandra.  
  
“Kelly, we have to help them!”  
  
“You know my name?” She whispered absentmindedly, still staring at the nightmarish scene unfolding in front of them and wondered at this inane conversation. Did it matter that apart from her dad everyone called her KC? As if her name was the most important thing right now. Kelly blinked and forced herself to look at her companion.  
  
Dirty and wet, flat on the ground alongside her- Michael’s big grin seemed to be at odds with his scared green eyes and the pallor of his skin. “You’re kind of hard to overlook, I asked Conner about you.” His eyes wandered upwards.  
  
Kelly blamed it on the stress, it took Michael reaching out and tugging at one of the lock of hairs hanging wet and limp on her shoulders to follow his thoughts. Her hair had always made her stand out in a crowd, she was used to the reactions by now. Red and fiery, it was like a beacon. Kelly froze.  
  
“Fuck!” Her fingers were clumsy in her haste to unwind her neck cloth. She shoved the shiny clasp into a pocket and tried to pull her hair into a bun and cover it up. Her dad was a Marine, she should know better!  
  
“It wasn’t that bad, you kind of blend in with the trees.” Michael commented softly and helped her with the last mutinous strands. Kelly was relieved that she didn’t have to explain herself to him, he had followed her thoughts.  
  
Muffled screaming reminded them about the danger they were in. Kelly bit down on her lower lip and risked bending a branch to the side to get a better view. The rain had lessened in intensity. Criminal number six was manhandling his captive, one of his hands covered the girl’s mouth (Liandra, it had to be Li, Gracie had dark hair) and his other hand- Kelly gulped and slowly let go of the branch. She really, really didn’t like the way the strange man’s other hand was touching her friend. At least the head bastard was scolding his henchman and Miss Judy had somehow managed to free herself and was sprinting toward Li. The Scout Leader was shouting, something about-  
  
Kelly growled. Judy was shouting about how they would get nothing if Li was harmed. And then she touched the asshole in charge and leant against him! Instead of helping Liandra. And the other criminals didn’t try to detain the woman and force her back to the other hostages.  
  
“We have to help!” Michael repeated more insistently and pulled his feet under him.  
  
Kelly pressed him down again. “You’ve read too much Harry Potter. JKR got it all wrong. We’re just kids ourselves, rescuing them is a job for adults.”  
  
“There are no adults here, we can’t just hide and do nothing!” Michael stuck out his chin and eyed the enemy in a way that alarmed Kelly.  
  
Visions of Michael trying to steal a jeep, or something equally heroic and stupid made Kelly shake her head in dismay. “We don’t have shelter, food, supplies or a way to reach civilization faster than on foot. They’ll notice that we’re missing soon and catch us before we get far and then they’ll be angry and-“ Kelly stopped. It was no use making Michael more afraid. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so curious about her dad’s work. All her research about crimes and the shows she watched on the sly, it was enough to know that the last thing a hostage should do was to attract attention and get singled out.   
  
Kelly saw no way she and her charge would be able to hide and wait until help arrived either. Night would be coming soon and it would be too cold in the open, they would need to get dry and warm. Sleeping bags were supposed to be delivered to their camps so the kids didn’t have to carry them on the trek. The only food she had were the snacks in her pocket: misery all around. Getting a message to her dad was one problem but getting back to the camp without the baddies making an example of them would be difficult unless-  
  
“Are you good at acting?”  
  
Michael gnawed at his lower lip. “Uhm. Why, what do you want me to do?”  
  
“To act like I’m the most annoying girl you’ve ever met and complain loudly about my evil ways.”  
  
His giggle was edging towards a sob. Kelly drew the small boy into an embrace and ignored her own shaking body. Poor little guy.  
  
“Big hardship, I know.”  
  
He nodded and snuggled up to her for a moment, then he sucked a big gulp of air into his lungs and squared his shoulders. “What’s the plan, oh glorious Captain?”  
  
“Captain, puleeeze! As if I’d want to be an Officer! Gunnery Sergeants are much better. My dad is a Marine and a Sentinel. I’ll write him a message, describe everything that happened, wrap it into my undershirt and hide it as far outside the camp as I can manage. He’ll find it.”   
  
“Kelly? I’ve got something better than a simple note.” Michael began to dig into his small backbag. “About how you said I’m clueless about the right direction?”  
  
“Yes?“  
  
“You were right, I’m crap at navigation and it stopped working this morning, no reception, -still no reception, damn- but-“ He babbled and held something out to her.  
  
Kelly stared at the offered device and then gave him a bone crushing hug. Criminals beware, they would beat this and her dad would destroy the idiots and everything would be all right again.  
  
“Very cool! Small changes in the plan! This is what I want you to do…”  
  
\--++--++--++--  
  
“Henshaw, have you found-“ Gardener turned around and pointed his handgun at the noise, then put it back with a derisive snort. Nothing dangerous, just two brats, barreling into the camp at full speed, bawling and sniffing. Well, well, if it wasn’t the missing children.  
  
The smaller kid threw himself at Judy, much too busy with whatever upset him to notice the armed men.  
  
“Miss Judy, KC is mean! I had to pee, really urgently, and didn’t want her to watch, that would be icky, and-“  
  
The girl was one of the older kids, wet like the boy but dirtier with twigs and mud in her hair. Disgusting.   
  
“Don’t believe him! He snuck away and then pushed me into a mudpuddle!”  
  
Liam Gardener had more important things to take care of than schoolyard fights. “Judy, take them to the other kids and keep an eye on them.” The kids had no reason to look relieved but he wouldn’t tell them. Now, were was his satellite phone, he had to make an urgent call.  
  
TBC


	2. Chapter 2

„Dinozzo, let`s bond.“

Anthony Damien Dinozzo - Tony to his friends and colleagues, Dr. Dinozzo to assholes - nearly stumbled over his own walking stick. The Federal Agent who had met him at the assigned parking space for visitors and who was leading him to the command center, helped Tony with a firm grip under one of his elbows. Normally Dinozzo wasn’t fond of overly helpful people. But he wasn’t keen on facing that particular blue eyed NCIS menace with mud on his face and bruises on his ass either. Sacks at least knew better than to keep his hands on him like Tony was a difficult suspect, instead of someone who was just a little bit unsteady on his feet and the agent backed off as soon as Tony was securely upright again.

His stomach was a tight mess of anger and concern. Fading daylight and treacherous ground weren’t his friends on a good day and this day had proved to be miserable. Tony silently cursed the rain, it had transformed the grassy field that served as an impromptu center of operations into a slippery mess. The high powered flood lights that had been installed around the camp were keeping the center well lit but at the periphery they were casting harsh shadows which in turn disguised possible stumbling blocks.

“Thank you Agent Sacks.” Tony offered a polite smile to the Agent, straightened his Armani suit jacket to smooth out any wrinkles Sack’s touch might have caused in the fine cloth and only then turned to the man who had addressed him so rudely. He couldn’t resist and took a second to admire the lean but strong build and the handsome face. The hair was more salt than pepper these days, not that it made him less handsome, and time had deepened the lines on his face since Tony had seen him last. It was a shame that such a nice outside was accompanied by a disagreeable personality, second b for bastard indeed.

And that was all the time and attention he wanted to waste on the gruff former Marine. As far as Tony was concerned Gibbs didn’t even warrant an answer to his ludicrous announcement. Now the Sentinel was ready to bond? Yeah, sure. Everything had been said years ago and Dinozzo had more important things to do.

Tony planted his feet more securely and leant casually on his walking stick, looking around and giving his knee and tight time to stop complaining about the abuse he put them through. Maybe Tony should have accepted his assistant’s offer to drive him instead of doing it himself, but Nicolle was a real stickler for rules. It would have taken ages and driven him batty whenever she slowed down to match the speed suggestions to a T.

He looked around and tried to locate Agent Fornell but that wasn’t easy, this place resembled an ant hill at the moment. It was hard to do a headcount, never mind spotting an individual. It was an organized ant hill admittedly. Two modern communication and surveillance vans flanked a field command stand with technical personnel and other people busily running back and forth with additional equipment. More trucks and vans had been parked further back, standing in a half circle side by side with police cars. Signature dark blue and non- escript grey peacefully shared place. It seemed as if FBI and SGC both hadn’t spared equipment or personnel on this case and Tony heartily approved even if he wasn’t too happy with the prospect of dealing with the SGC. The men and women running around were all busy and only took enough time whenever they came near him to spare a glance at his visitor's pass and companion and then continue with their assignments. With one exception.

“Guide Dinozzo, didn’t you hear Sentinel Gibbs?” The voice addressing him was professionally pleasant and placating. A tactic he never used himself, not even during his required residential tour at Bethesda.

Tony sighed and turned his head to face the speaker. “It’s Dr. Dinozzo, not Guide Dinozzo, and I’m here because my kid has been kidnapped and Agent Fornell called me in. All I want to do is find first the Agent and then my son, both as speedily as possible, so if you could be so kind and point me in the right direction?”

The SGC Agent, easily identified as a member of the organization due to her grey uniform, blinked. The card on the lanyard around her neck said Sibyll Palfred, Guide (unbonded). “Agent Fornell is currently on the phone with the Director of the FBI and it is my job to read you in. Agent Fornell told you what happened when he contacted you?”

Gibbs had come closer but hadn’t opened his mouth again, his complete focus was on the newcomer. Tony didn’t know what to make of the intense look in the Sentinels’ blue eyes.

It was essential to establish a common level of information so everyone could draw from the same facts but Tony would have preferred dealing with Fornell, who he remembered to be a competent and no nonsense sort of agent. Instead he was forced to interact with this woman. Agent Sacks had stayed at his side and nodded when Tony threw an inquiring look at him.

To do this sitting down would have been appreciated but Tony would not be the first to give in and ask for a chair. He arranged his features into a pleasant mask and repeated everything he knew. “A unidentified group of individuals arranged for the week long autumn excursion of the Alexandria Scout Group to derivate from their planned path. Four Adults, six teenagers and 21 children under the age of ten never reached the pick-up point at the end of their hike. A blackmail call has been made to Ambassador Greenburgh with threats, conditions for a safe release of the group are said to follow within the next three to six hours. Prove of life has been given, all hostages appeared to be in good condition.”

“Correct.” Gibbs confirmed.

“Ambassador Greenburgh has ties to both the big landowners and the descendants of the original population of South Africa. He is in the process of mediating peace talks between the two groups. His goodwill is the key to successfully negotiating a better relationship between the less radical factions of the region.” Sacks added and the sour twist of his lips betrayed his displeasure. “They’ve been fighting for decades, sometimes more, sometimes less violently, but if the first serious negotiation attempt in ten years fails publicly on US ground, the fallout would be huge.”

“The kidnappers will demand that Greenburgh subtly provokes a fight or otherwise negatively influences the peace talks.” Gibbs stated it as a fact and Tony could only concur, it matched his own analysis.

Dinozzo snorted derisively. “Trade deals going up in smoke, diplomatic hooplas and some companies getting their panties in a twist because their supply of rare metals might get more expensive. Wallstreet would love another unstable region going up in flames, all because the US fucked up publicly. Hence the first class treatment of the case.”

His blunt assessment earned Tony a scandalized look from Palfred, followed by her softly reprimanding him. “Guide Dinozzo, please temperate your language.”

Interestingly enough it was Gibbs who took offense. “What?  _Dr. Dinozzo_  is right, pussyfooting around will only add to this tangled mess.”

“Which brings us back to what’s supposed to happen now, and why I’m handed to an SGC Agent for debriefing. Instead of the honor falling to a regular FBI agent, no offence meant, Agent Sacks.” Tony neatly cut in and prevented the lecture about proper behavior he knew the other Guide died to deliver. His eyes widened when Gibbs growled threateningly at both Sacks and Palfred when the woman opened her mouths to complain.

There was a disconcerting quality to Gibbs’ growl, more pronounced than in his regular speech pattern, something that made the two agents back off and Tony’s instincts wake up and take closer notice. Gibbs had himself well in check, menace leashed by an iron will, but now that he paid attention Tony couldn’t allow himself to overlook a few telltale details any longer. It was a cold night, but Gibbs wasn’t wearing a coat or a jacket. Instead he was clothed in a dark military sweater -  but his gun was missing. The ever present coffee cup was absent too, both of his hands were _free._

“There’s no way to find them in time. The trees aren’t bare enough to allow for a successful satellite search, the area is a dead zone reception wise and the satellite phones used by the Scout Leaders are dead. Too much ground to cover. The two local Sentinels aren’t strong enough to pinpoint the disturbance in their territory.” Gibbs’ voice was clear and precise, every word sharp like a knife. “One of the missing children is my daughter. She's one of the teenagers. If I was bonded, I’d be able to focus on her, find her.”

“That sounds-“ impossible, unbelievable, too easy; too complicated; Tony stroked the carved head of his walking stick and took a mental step backwards, letting his brain run wild and play with all the puzzle pieces he had been given. Finding Kelly would mean finding Michael as well. Both kids getting kidnapped at the same time, being part of the same Scout Group? Coincidence? Hardly, but most likely not part of the immediate problem. At a later point in time, after he had Michael back, he would look into it very carefully.

“That’s it? We bond, you listen for Kelly, we rescue our kids, the end?”

Gibbs eye’s flashed dangerously when he heard his daughter’s name and his mouth tightened into an unforgiving line.

Tony raised an eyebrow. When he had met Gibbs eight years ago the former marine had been very tight lipped about his personal life. The NCIS Agent hadn’t mentioned that he had a daughter, never mind what she was called. Of course Tony had looked up Gibbs before he moved to Washington DC and his new job. The capital wasn’t that big when it came to the Federal Agencies, neither was Alexandria and Tony hated being blindsided by his past. So what if he had used his connections and security clearance to snoop a little bit? The file sections dealing with the private life of the Supervisory Special Agent were light on details, for security reasons Tony fully approved of, but bureaucracy had left enough clues to the man’s family situation if you knew where to look. The rest was, as they said, history – and the reason Tony chose another school when he had to select one for Michael to attend.

Maybe it was the aggressive undercurrents between the Sentinel and his Guide to be, but Agent Palfred began to babble additional information. “You might not know it - it is in not widely known, really - but male Sentinels rarely have biological children after they come online. Those few who procreate have a special connection to their offspring and a different set of instinctual behavior than regular Sentinels. Their drive to protect their mate and child above all else overrides the need to secure their territory. It’s called the Mother Bear Syndrome, MBS for short, it’s even more pronounced in Alpha Sentinels, like Sentinel Gibbs, who-“

Gibbs, who looked like he wanted to smack the woman.

Sacks took a step back from his SGC colleague.

Yeah, Mother Bear fit with how Tony imagined Gibbs’ typical reaction to any threat to his princess. “Wow, take a deep breath before you faint, Agent Palfred. I never said that Gibbs lied, he never bothers to. I have doubts that bonding will anchor him fast enough though. Isn’t bonding a ‘delicate and lengthy process’?” he used his fingers for air quotes.

“I don’t need a full bond, we can sort it out later, just enough to keep me from zoning into a coma.” Gibbs clarified before the SGC Guide could interfere again.

“They said Gibbs won’t be able to function without a bond after having finally experienced the full range of his senses. They can’t put the devil back into its box.” Sacks added and pointedly nodded towards Palfred as if to dare her to disagree.

Well, well. It seemed as if Sacks felt that Dinozzo needed full disclosure, which was surprising because he had never showed any particular fondness for Tony the handful of times he had to work with him before. Or he wanted to help both Tony and the NCIS Agent. If Tony read the way Gibbs was glaring at the Center Guide correctly, the Sentinel hadn’t been told about that little factoid either.

Faced with the displeasure of three stressed males, Palfred placatingly raised her hands. “We thought that we didn’t need to elaborate because it’s only logical and common knowledge. It’s not unusual for a Sentinel who comes online in battle to form a temporary connection. A non-sexual bond of short duration can be severed without harming Sentinel and Guide, if both of them want it. We would have time to find a more appropriate partner for Sentinel Gibbs and we have already called in a specialist to oversee the process.”

“And Dinozzo?” Gibbs demanded.

“By all accounts Guide Dinozzo is not a strong Guide at all. Sentinel Gibbs’ low available number of potential Guides necessitated calling the one we knew would work on short notice. Guide Dinozzo has been categorized as a low level three. His compatibility with a level six Sentinel has always been a much discussed but never explained irregularity. With no high level empathy he will be able to function without a bond.”

Tony smirked and rolled his eyes. Of course they wouldn’t waste their precious time or a Sentinel on him. Not that he would have wanted them to arrange something for him.

The displeased expression on Gibbs’ face deepened: his eyes narrowed and he redirected his formidable attention towards Tony who decided that all that gloom deserved an even bigger smirk.

“They think you’re a level three?” The Sentinel asked deadpan.

“Barely a three, yes.” Tony confirmed and smiled sweetly.

With a few strides Gibb closed the distance between them and pointedly positioned himself between Palfred and Tony without paying her further attention, essentially dismissing her from the conversation. “We bond, I’ll listen for Kelly, we find both our kids,-“

The Sentinel was echoing Tony’s earlier words and the Guide, taking his cue from the way his future Sentinel quirked his lips, finished the sentence for both of them. “We’ll keep them safe and deal with how our lives change;  _together_.”

Gibbs nodded, touched him by the left shoulder with one hand and squeezed encouragingly. “They showed me where they put the transportable emergency bonding suit.”

“Better you than me Tony. I’ll follow you and keep watch, keep the vultures away.” Sacks promised with another sideway look at the sputtering SGC Agent.

Palfred turned around and strode away, her back stiff and there was a cellphone in her right hand.

Sacks removed a flashlight from his belt “Just lay back and think of England Tony.”

“I’m not British. Though, if I have to get naked for Queen and Country I would prefer to be James Bond. Hm, Gibbs has the wrong figure to play the part of Ursula Andress, don’t you think?” When he tried to look back Tony felt more than saw Gibbs changing his position and blocking his line of sight to the FBI man.

Sacks had seen it as well and discreetly slowed down to increase the space between himself and the possessive Sentinel. “Don’t count on me to hand you a Martini as soon as you reemerge.”

This was why he knew Sacks wasn’t a completely humorless idiot but he nearly fell on his ass –again- when he heard Gibbs' response.

“Not gonna stir him, don’t have the time, but the need to shake him is nearly irresitable.”

Tony laughed.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

The caravan Gibbs steered him to like a guided missile was the last one in the half circle of vehicles and the one furthest away from the command center. The position would grant them the illusion of privacy. Illusion because Tony would take bets that everyone down to the service people on site knew about their impromptu bonding. If they didn’t they were piss poor investigators and should be sent back to the Hoover Building and the Sentinel-Guide Center respectively before they fucked up something important.

Tony never had to deal with an emergency bonding in his career - certainly not as a participant or he wouldn’t be in this situation, would he? - but he had learned the theory available to the general public and the additional information that was required for every member of the FBI. The windowless van was insulated against stimuli from the outside and equipped with purely Sentinel friendly materials. It even had a small double door system to keep outside irritants to a minimum. As soon as both of them had fully entered, the outer door closed. Neither Gibbs nor Dinozzo were small men and Tony was thankful that he didn’t have claustrophobia or he would go crazy with the dimmed lights and the lack of space.

Ideally and according to protocol the Guide should have been the first to enter, take off his clothes, wash and towel down with the provided Center approved soap and towels, seal away all his possessions into the waiting zip bags and then lay down inside the inner ‘nest’ ready for the Sentinel. The way Gibbs had hovered beside the door, his grip white and tense on the doorhandle, like an electrical storm ready to throw lightning and thunder had been enough to tell Tony that protocol could go fuck itself. His Sentinel was done with any delays that kept him from finding his daughter.

“This reawakens unfond memories of cramped changing rooms. Let me tell you, some colleges should invest in proper ones for the visiting teams instead of converting broom cupboards.” Jacket and vest weren’t giving him too much trouble but Tony gave a painful yelp when his elbow collided with something hard and metallic when he pulled his shirt over his head. “Yep, it’s the late 1980s again and nobody bothered to tell me.”

The whisper of fabric moving against fabric and skin was distracting. Tony followed another universal changing room rule and didn’t look what Gibbs was doing and stared down at his Italian loafers instead. The poor dears would never be the same but Tony felt they deserved the abuse: his shoelaces were mocking him with their perfectly tied, mud cemented bows. There was no way Tony would manage to undo them without sitting down. And he wasn’t going to fall over in front of the Sentinel. He had already established that personal rule today, hadn’t he?

Before he could throw his pride out of an imaginary window and ask for help strong hands shoved Tony against the closed door. Gibbs used the additional space to go down on one knee and with a few deft movements he conquered the rebellious laces. Tony had to clamp down on any reaction because the light was strong enough to allow him tantalizing glimpses of the grey haired head with its god-awful haircut bent, faintly brushing against the Guides cloth covered crotch. A holy, older than dirt monk would get flustered in his place and Tony was no monk.

Tony ordered his eyes to close and swallowed a few times. Yes, what a great idea, he was a strategic genius! One tempting aspect negated and his dry throat got some dearly needed fluid. Now he could get the rest of his body back under control.

Next thing he felt was a tug at his waist and warm breath on body parts that had been covered a few moments before. Tony revised his earlier self-assessment. He was a complete and total moron by blinding himself and removing the chance of foresight. Gibbs had taken his silent consent with the shoes as permission to remove everything else as well, trousers and boxer-shorts now tangled around his ankles. Which was good, great even. The goal had been getting naked, hadn’t it?

“Left leg first. Use my shoulders to keep your balance.”

Tony could feel a warm touch just above his left knee and strong fingers circling his ankle. More warm skin greeted his own fingers when he followed the order and gripped the offered shoulder with his right hand. His poor brain informed him that the earlier visual appreciation of the older man’s body had been correct. There wasn’t an ounce of fat to be found there. Tony’s left hand refused to lessen the hold on the handle of his walking stick.

The Guide’s lower leg was competently bent backwards, the bunched up clothes removed in one fluid swoop and he was on two feet again before he could even think about it.

“Thank you.” Tony managed to croak and then let his mouth run freely. “You think they’ll send for fresh garments? I don’t know about you but I don’t want to parade around Fornell and his crew looking like I crawled out of bed after sleeping with my clothes on. It’s bad for the professional image.”

“Tobias has seen me in worse condition. We nearly shared the same ex-wife, that called for hard liquor. Other leg now. It’s the weak one, that’s gonna be a problem?”

“It’s all right. You won’t let me fall.” And indeed, he didn’t. Tony let his head thumb back against the door.

“How the hell did they get the impression that you’re a low-level?”

While he decided how to answer the question Tony risked looking again and chuckled. Gibbs was folding every discarded garment, his own Sears clothes and the Guides expensive ones both, even the boxer shorts, and sorting them neatly into the zip-bags. Tony’s shirt and jacked had been rescued as well. There really was no such thing as an ex-marine. “I let them. For all their wondering about me being a perfect match for your Sentinel, they never bothered to have me examined by a true high level guide. I’ve had my shields up since I was twelve and they couldn’t feel me.”

“Rule eigth.” Disgust was oozing from the Special Agent’s voice. “They deem themselves the best of the community? They wouldn’t last a day on my team.”

Tony had to unearth the corresponding memory. “Ah. Never take anything for granted. To their defense, the DC community is, just like the Long Island one, one of the weakest in the US. Politics and money don't appeal to Sentinels and Guides.” He would run the other way if he ever met a high level Sentinel who was Head of a state.

“As rare as we are, Guides are more common than Sentinels. Generally speaking. High level Guides? Now that’s another issue entirely. If they’d known about my true strengths they would have been after me like crazy. I didn’t want that kind of three ring circus for myself and my son so I saw no reason to educate them about their folly.” Due to his bum leg he still wouldn’t have been considered an acceptable bond mate, but there were other uses for empaths, some of them on the shady side. Thanks, but no thanks.

“Their lackluster talents are why they are so keen on having me fully online. They don’t want to be second fiddle to surrounding backwater Centers any longer.” Gibbs explained while he closed one bag and stored it in an open cupboard. “A strong Sentinel at the helm would attract other strong pairs to the pride."

“Oh dear God.” Tony didn’t know if he should laugh or cry. Those fools. “That’s inviting the wolf into the sheep stable and believing he would play nice. Don’t they know you at all? Are they really that clueless?”

There was no other word for it, Gibbs looked smug, his normally cool blue eyes dancing when he looked up from his self-appointed task and pointed a finger at the Guide.

“Quod erat demonstrandum.”

Tony grinned, changed the topic and grabbed a hand towel. Some kind soul had pre warmed the trailer and the wet cloths both or he would sport goose bumps all over. “Hand me the soap? It’s on your left side, above the spare towels.”

“You don’t smell bad, nothing wrong about a little honest sweat. The body-wash and detergents you use aren’t bothering me.” Gibbs snatched the wet towel and put it away – in its own separate little bag, of course.

Tony had used SGC approved products since he was a teenager. They were a lot better for the skin than the commercial grade ones. “If you’re done putting everything in its place, then how about getting comfortable?”

Nearly all of the bigger compartment’s space in the trailer was occupied by a big bedlike structure. Finest linen and fluffy pillows promised an exceptionally comfortable rest. Tony’s inner hedonist was taking notes. Minutes later they were snuggled under the extra soft blanket, Gibbs’ hands running up and down Tony’s body and getting familiar with every plane and crevice he could reach.

There were three issues warring inside Tony’s head for dominance. Michael missing, of course, and how his life was going topsy-turvy private and professional wise after they got the kids back.  And he was kind of freaking out about not freaking out because he was naked and in bed with Gibbs - who was treating him like his personal snuggle and chew toy – yes, that were teeth he felt on his upper arm and rough wetness indicated a tongue. All the physical stuff was filtered through a fog though and unlike his earlier reaction there was no danger of getting a boner. The first issue he could do nothing about and the third was silly (and embarrassingly unembarrassing). “You have to know how unlikely it is that they’ll be able to break our bond. And the reasons why you refused to have me as your Guide eight years ago haven’t gone away.”

The slow, nearly meditative-rhythmic touch stalled and then moved to Tony’s right leg and the long, raised and ropey scar tissue there. Gibbs thumb massaged the area firmly, chasing away some of the lingering pain. “Can’t say that I don’t have my doubts but I’m not as militant anymore. It was a bad time for me.”

It hadn’t been sunshine and roses for Tony either. “I don’t want to be the second choice or a necessary burden.” It would sour their relationship long term and Tony didn’t want to end like his own mother, bitter and always dreaming about what might have been.

“If you’re mine, you’re mine and we’ll deal. Your kid will be mine as well and it isn’t as if I would have bonded without you in the picture, you’re not taking away anyone’s place. Relax and let me in.”

That’s what they were here for. Still it was easy for Gibbs to demand but difficult for Tony to accomplish. Gibbs was always true to his words but this, this was personal and would make Tony vulnerable on a level that made the younger man cringe and balk. Tony had his defenses up since he was a kid. No matter what his conscious mind had decided, some part of him demanded more reassurance before he made himself vulnerable.

Gibbs sensed his struggles. Tony had a few inches on the former marine and took pride in the fitness of his own body. Tony kept himself in prime condition but that was not enough to win against the military trained coiled strength of his Sentinel combined with a sneak attack. Before he could react with more than a surprised yelp Tony had been positioned under Gibbs, their legs entangled, Tony’s damaged one securely bent up and out of the way of harm over Gibbs hip and ass.

“Know me, Guide. I’ll always keep you safe and offer myself in turn for safekeeping.”

The words sounded strange, too formal for coming out of Gibbs’ mouth but they rang true and held power. Gibbs pressed his face into the hollow of Tony’s throat and the younger man instinctively wrapped his arms around the Sentinel’s back in an embrace.

Tony visualized his personal shield, the one that kept other peoples’ feelings away like a second skin and instead of tearing it up, he let it rippled and flow, lapping at his bed partner, each wave more insistent until the peaks collided above them and combined into a new shape.

It snapped into place, stronger and more flexible than ever. The change felt so strange. Tony was exhausted and energized at the same time. _Incredible, how much of his energy had been used up and funneled into keeping his shield stable?_ It was- Tony blinked rapidly and clutched at Gibbs, he had no words to describe how he felt and his Sentinels’ presence was the only anchor that kept him sane.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

The next set of problems surfaced soon after and this time it wasn’t Tony who had problems dealing with his new and improved abilities. At first it wasn’t severe, just some twitching and discomfort and Tony was able to help his Sentinel simply by offering him his touch and voice as an anchor. Minutes later rashes began to develop all over Gibbs’ skin and he started to shake in earnest.

“Can you tell me which sense is worst?”

“All. Tongue too rough in my mouth. Gurgling. Stinks. So loud. Too much.” Gibbs pressed out between clenched teeth.

Gurgling? Smelly? Gibbs helplessly moaned and tossed beside his Guide, his hands covering his ears and then, accompanied by a painful whimper that made Tony’s eyes water in sympathy, he touched his own stomach area and then Tony’s in turn.

Could it be that he was hearing and smelling their body functions from the outside? “Gibbs? Gibbs don’t. No scratching, it’s not gonna make this better. Try to remember… you know how everything should be, try to concentrate on that, yes? You used your senses actively before. Come on.” A Guide was supposed to provide a baseline, be the eye in the storm. But how?

Going back to what seemed to work for them before and exclude calm was all Tony could come up with.

It took a lot of convincing and tugging, and not a few pained whimpers from both of them to get Gibbs back into their old position, with the Sentinel tangled on top of his Guide. The soft blanket was big enough to have them lie on and cover them with the rest of it at the same time. The resulting cocoon wasn’t too snug and trapped their combined scent inside. Tony guessed that it would be better to reduce the stimuli and since floating in the air was impossible this would have to do.

Tony wheedled and prodded at his Sentinel and didn’t give in until Gibbs had drunk half a bottle of the provided water. Logically it could only help to dilute the offending scents and smells, on and in both of them. Second half of the liquid was therefore his to drink. It tasted of nothing to his less sensitive taste buds, just like it should. In hindsight it hadn’t been their best idea to forego the sponge bath.

There was a big, faintly glowing button inserted into the headboard. As long as Gibbs didn’t zone he would give him time to adjust on his own terms. If he didn’t improve soon Tony would call for help.

“Talk. Please.”

“What?”

“You…yap, yap constantly. I’m… used to it.”

“That’s the first time someone demands that I ramble.” But what about? Anything stressful was out and Tony strongly suspected that Gibbs would strangle him if he analyzed a movie plot or try to convince the former Marine of the innovations Armani introduced to this year’s fall fashion line. “Talk. Oh. Uhm. So this is what performance issues feel like. Nice of you to introduce me to the experience, here I thought it was mainly a problem for older men like you, but you know one in five men*-“

Gibbs sighed and gave him a sharp tap to the back of his head. “Michael.”

Sharing stories about his son was a pretty smart idea actually. They would have to cohabitate, full time or part time they hadn’t talked about that at all, but Gibbs would meet the mini Dinozzo soon enough and deserved a warning. Well, on the flip side was his own new step daughter to consider but Tony filed that under the steadily growing list named _later_.

Tony relaxed. “Good idea. So here’s the down-low on my awesome son. Michael is seven going on thirty. He’s scary smart and kind hearted but rather shy, which makes it hard for him to find new friends. As soon as he’s decided that he likes someone, he never lets go though. I love my kid to bits but I don’t always understand him, he’s weird. No, don’t tense up, I don’t mean it in a bad way and Michael would be the first one to agree with me. OK, he would scowl at anyone else who dares to call him that. He sees no point in being average.”

Tony chuckled helplessly while he remembered passionate rants about why Sesame Street was giving his son creeps and how Miss Piggy was scarier than the Snow Queen and was that supposed to be teaching him something? Come on Dad!

Gibbs rubbed his face against Tony’s and hummed. The trembles were getting less severe.

“First time I handed him a real football Michael made faces and I expected him to ask were the buttons are on this thing. Internet generation, what do you know. It’s the reason why I agreed with his Mum that he should go on that hike. Oh God. She’s going to go all mea culpa, it will be impossible to calm her down.”

With his new shields it was easy to pinpoint the reason for his Sentinel going tense and growly, undoing all of Tony’s hard work. “Hush. There’s no reason for you to get territorial. I’ll not ask about your ex-girlfriends either as long as they are firmly in the ex category _._ Wendy has been in my life for a very long time and she is Michael’s mom, I’ll not give her up just because you’re a caveman.”

Gibbs grumbled and tightened his hold, it was kind of cute.

“See? Caveman sounds! Wendy is no threat. She’s my best friend, in the past friend with benefits. One of the fun times resulted in the most precious accident called Michael. She’s one of those artists; you know what I mean, a musician, who forgets everything else if the muse kisses them. I can count on her being there if I really need her but regular everyday life and raising a kid without a nanny? Which we didn’t have the money for when he was small? Wendy would wither and die. This is why I’m the full time parent.”

The cadence of his words and petting the Sentinel seemed to work, the men’s heartbeats and breathing slowed down and synchronized. Tony snuggled in and whispered random stories about his son’s shenanigans into Gibbs’ ear until they drifted off into a restful sleep.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-

They woke early, the sun hadn’t fully risen above the horizon when Gibbs stuck his head outside the outer door and let in the natural light. And the frigid air as well.

After the warmth and comfort of their nest it was damn cold! Tony’s nipples pebbled and his dick and balls tried to crawl up and away in protest. But neither man wanted to use yesterday’s clothes and risk a relapse. Someone had to brave the outside world and Gibbs had volunteered himself. He was refusing to send his naked Guide.

“No way and don’t pout Dinozzo.”

Gibbs demonstrated that he was indeed on even keel again and fully capable of controlling his senses, because he didn’t look to be suffering the low temperatures at all. The cheating bastard. No man past forty should look that good naked with only a towel around his hips.

The general public didn’t get much chance to get jealous, Gibbs was back very fast and he carried two gym-bags, one of them familiar.

“Sacks raided our cars.”

“I forgot that I had that in there, content should be freshly washed too. Gimme! Damn it’s cold, I’ll layer like crazy and have Nicolle, my assistant, express deliver some of my warmer outdoor clothes. And what do you have there?”

A note was held out without comment. It was the printout of a white man-kini and a note. “’You deserve something for being stuck with Gibbs. No Martinis allowed during a federal investigation, sorry. Sacks’” Tony read out loud and guffawed. He had been wrong, Sack not only had a sense of humor, but it was an evil, suicidal one!

“Are you going to murder him?”

Gibbs folded the note carefully and put it away. “Nah. You don’t kill the mentally infirm, you help them.”

_Poor, poor Sacks._

They hurried to get clothed.

“There’s no other message attached? No news about the kidnappers?”

His Sentinel Gibbs shook his head and, as if he had done it for years, knelt down and helped Tony into his trainers. “Palfred would have been able to tell if we were still unavailable or sleeping if something happened.”

“Ok, that’s… good. Wow, not only a first class Sentinel, I’ve got myself a personal valet!”

“Don’t tell anyone or my reputation will be shot.”

The narrow stairs out of the caravan proved to be the first major obstacle of the new day. Gibbs had to help his Guide to reach the ground. The Sentinel handed him his walking stick and didn’t comment but used his eyebrow short-hand instead.

“I have to do my usual exercises like every morning or I won’t be able to move properly. Our bond hasn’t magically cured my damaged leg.” Tony reluctantly admitted. He might have to put more than the normal time into stretching after abusing the muscles yesterday.

“Did you bring your wheelchair?” There was no judgment to be found in Gibbs’ voice.

“It’s in my car but it won’t do me any good with this terrain. If it doesn’t get better there are crutches I can use, but I want to avoid that. Let’s go for division of labor, you go talk to Fornell, or aggravate him into sharing, whatever works best, and I’ll get myself back into shape.”

“Knew I should have brought Ducky.” Gibbs searched his outer pockets for his cellphone. “I’ll call him. Don’t want another doc to examine and treat you or our kids.”

-+-+-+-+-+-

Tony was on his way to the now very busy looking command center, manned by a familiar bald headed FBI Agent. He stepped back into the space between two vans to let a group of computer analysts pass when he was accosted.

Guide Palfred swept down upon him like an avenging angel with a flaming sword, ready to burn an infidel to cinders. “Dinozzo! You are a disgrace for Guides everywhere. It’s a miracle you didn’t send poor Sentinel Gibbs into a zone out induced coma with your incompetence!” Despite her vehemence she tried to be as silent as possible.

Her fury made him take an involuntary step away from her and his back smashed against metal walls of a van.

“You didn’t follow protocol! Did you deliberately try to harm him or overwhelm him? You should have cleaned yourself, you should have-” She brandished a fluffy towel like a flag and waved it around accusingly.

There was no genius level intelligence needed to know where she found the ammunition for her rant. Did she check the wastebasket in the bonding van? Measured if the amount of lube to check that he didn’t try to trap Gibbs in a sexual bond? Sniffed and pawed at everything? Tony was feeling like he had to throw up any second. Invasion of privacy was not enough to describe her crime; he wouldn’t feel more violated if she had touched him physically against his will instead.

This woman and her attitude were chasing away the last remnants of contentedness from last night Tony. “Congratulations, you managed to perfect the fine art of screeching at low volume like a harridan. At least you are good at something because you suck as a Guide and as a human being both.”

“You, you- caricature of a Guide!!” Sibyll Palfred was hyperventilating.

A firm, questioning vibe tugged at him, it felt strange and warm at the same time. Tony folded his hands over the grip of his walking stick and reflected Palfred's default modus operandum, pleasant and bland, back at her. “Not only have you invaded Gibbs’ and my privacy, nosing through the content of the bonding suite is totally rude and uncalled for, now you are attacking a newly bonded, nesting Guide verbally. And expect that their hyper vigilant level six Sentinel doesn’t notice because you whisper. You are a moron.”

“How dare you! I’ll have you in front of a full inquiry board within the week.” Palfred hadn’t abandoned her toned down voice.

Tony didn’t need to turn his head. He knew. And, unlike the SGC Agent who nearly jumped out of her skin he smiled brightly when Gibbs appeared out of the shadows like a ghost.

“Great idea.”

“Sentinel Gibbs!” From Greek fury to startled rabbit to melting puddle of goo within five seconds, her emotions should have given her whiplash. “I’m so sorry about the incompetence you have been exposed to. Don’t you worry, we’ll severe-“

Gibbs cut her off before she could finish her sentence, for her own good, or she would have been verbally lambasted on the spot, and not by his pissed off Sentinel either. Tony got sick thinking about what she had been about to say and to hear it?

“First point on the agenda will be your conduct.” Gibbs clarified and returned to his Guide’s side.

Tony hissed. “First person I’ll call is my lawyer.”

A fourth voice chimed in. “I’ll lead the inquiry myself, we received a lot of complaints about the local Center’s dealings. Their choice of Lead Agent for such a sensitive case is troubling. Nevertheless, thank you for your service, Guide Palfred, I’ll take it from here. Send your second in command to me and return to the Center.”

A spiritual impression that translated faintly to ‘And don’t let the door hit you on the ass on your way out.’ made it through Tony’s shields but with a lot more oomph and incredulity than the words alone could convey.

Palfred must have felt it too. The first few steps she took were backward to keep an eye on them, but then she whirled around and high-tailed it out of their little group’s corner of the camp.

Gibbs was nearly plastered to Tony’s body.

“Dr. Blair Sandburgh.” Curly hair, warm blue eyes and short stature in direct contrast to the huge personality - his picture was on and in nearly every essay and book about modern Guide culture, either as the author or as a reference, Tony couldn’t mistake him for anyone else. Now that he was aware of the man the other Guides presence was nearly overwhelming. “I should have felt your approach.”

The Senior Guide vibrated with energy where he stood and indulgently smiled at the pair in front of him, no trace of earlier irritation left. “And you are Dr. Anthony Dinozzo and Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs, nice to meet you. Oh, don’t worry about your, hm radar Doctor. You’re recalibrating the entire infrastructure of your emphatic network and until you’ve finished adjusting everyone but your Sentinel will be blank to you if you don’t consciously concentrate on them.”

Tony’s facial expression and his disgust at the prospect showed his opinion about that to the other Guide. Sandburgh laughed at him. “No worries, I’ll buffer you so you don’t get blindsided again, that’s why I’m here. Normally you should be in isolation but- no point of wasting energy at impossibility.”

If Dr. Sandburgh was here, Jim Ellison couldn’t be far away. “They have the Alpha Sentinel Prime of North America available and still pushed for an emergency bonding?”

Gibbs going silent beside him alerted Tony and he hurried to send calm and reassurance back across their bond. He didn’t regret what happened, but if this was an elaborate scheme gone wrong by the SGC, he would cheer the older man on and light the corpses on fire after his Sentinel was done.

“We’ve been asked to help. Jim is getting an update from Supervisory Agent Fornell at the moment. The big guy heard something and thought that you two could, ah, benefit from my input. And to answer your question, sure my Sentinel is awesome, but hasn’t fathered any of the missing kids. It really does improve your Gibbs’ range significantly, that fact wasn’t bullshit.”

“It must have been one of the few competent assessments they’ve made. Dr. Sandburgh, do you know what is most upsetting about their idiocy? I’m used to them underestimating me, but I find it very insulting that they worship the ground Gibbs walks on because of his status but at the same time they dismiss his instincts. If he’s indeed the great and mighty Super Sentinel Prime they believe him to be, his instincts about which Guide to choose can’t be totally wrong.”

Sandburgh nodded. “Big pile of manure to sort out, but not your job. Yet. I’ll point Jim at them in the meantime and enjoy the carnage. We were on holidays when the call came and it was the first real vacation we’ve had in years. After you are secure and stable we’ll take a look at what Jim left.”

“Palfred better be gone by then. From the center and my territory.” Gibbs added. “I don’t trust her with my Guide, my family and my tribe.”

Banishment seemed harsh but considering the aggression she had shown today and how much she might have gotten wrong with other, more vulnerable members of their tribe under her influence, Tony couldn’t fault his Sentinel.

TBC

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I described the cell reception technology according to the way it works in my own country, if it is different in the US please suspend your disbelieve. Wikipedia and the FBI website have helped me get an idea about what BAU is really doing (and what the TV series got wrong) and which educational career would be likely for Tony. In the end I decided that fiction isn't a instruction sheet for any future 'Profilers' and went with what I thought was best.
> 
> BAU: Behavioral Analysis Unit

Dr. Sandburgh waved the new Sentinel-Guide pair and their faithful guardian Sacks away from the command center in the middle of the camp and to a big tent, which hadn’t been there the previous evening. Tony would have remembered the huge structure, camouflage print on the outside or no camouflage print on the outside. The working bees must have assembled it and equipped it while Gibbs and he were occupied and shut away from the rest of the world.

The inside consisted of space heaters, a conference table surrounded by comfy looking chairs. A mini kitchen had been put in the far corner. Green industrial carpet mats covered the ground and insulated the makeshift room further from the cold outside. More interesting than the welcome promise of sitting down for the coming conversation for a change, was the open laptop at the head of the table. It promised an update to the case.

The strange sensation of not getting any impressions of the three waiting people, who had been already seated and were occupied with their tasks, was making Tony’s skin itch. He hadn’t known that the space was occupied until entering the room and that was a first since he’d come online. His instincts insisted that he should trust Dr. Sandburgh’s judgment. The older Guide didn’t feel any contempt directed towards them. Caution and curiosity, which were understandable, but nothing overtly negative.

“Wow. Palfred’s been courting seriously negative karma with her attitude. Any idea what that was about, while we wait for Agent Fornell?”

Tony guessed that the Senior Guide intended to get to know him better until the other members of this modern war council arrived. He leant back in his chair, assessed how Gibbs was holding up and then chewed on the question.

“Hey, if it distresses you, forget that I asked but I really want to know.”

Tony opened his mouth to answer and then closed it again, irritated with his spontaneous reaction. The earnest interest that radiated from his fellow Guides’ aura had to be a very effective secret weapon. He got why people were eager to talk with this man. Blair seemed so honestly interested in what everybody had to say that telling the truth felt good and rewarding.

“Talk Dinozzo, I’m curious too. How much of a nuisance is she going to be?” Gibbs snatched a chair and dragged it over. “My knees aching in sympathy, sit down.”

Tony looked at the offered piece of furniture, back at his Sentinel and then eyed the chair again before sinking into it with as much grace as he could manage. “Too kind of you, thank you so much.”

Sitting down and talking to a group of people when everybody else was still standing might have irritated ordinary people. It resembled the classic interrogation scenario too much for comfort but Tony was by now a professional at situational inequality. Having to use a wheelchair whenever his bum leg was acting up had trained the discomfort out of him years ago. When it happened Tony invoked his best Capo impression, sans the cat in his lap but the walking stick made for an elegant enough fashion statement.

“I never met her before today.” Tony tilted his head to the side and fished for some illusive impression in his memories. “At least I don’t remember her face. I’ve been to the Center a few times. “He shrugged his shoulders and made a sweeping gesture with his free hand. “Most higher level Guides who know about my history, they feel unsettled around me. But her disdain felt too sharp to be purely impersonal.”

Sandburgh nodded and hopped onto the table, pushing another chair in Gibbs’ direction. “Cascade Center got a few complaints about DC but that’s nothing uncommon during the last three decades. Your community isn’t prolific enough to handle the more difficult cases and that results in tension. Doesn’t explain her issues with you Tony.”

The blonde woman who had worked on the laptop at the far end of the table hesitantly walked over. The sight of another signature grey pant suit, another lanyard with the same old symbol made Tony wary.

Gibbs had ignored Blair’s attempts at making him sit down and instead stood at attention behind Tony’s back.

Really, Tony got it. His newly bonded Sentinel was tethering on feral and was trying to keep threats within his sight. But now Tony would not only look like a Mafia Don to the soon to be assembled alphabet mix, now he looked like a Capone that wore gym clothes instead of designer threads, with a personal hard-ass military bodyguard at his beck and call and the worst thing? Don Tony obviously couldn’t afford a better hairdresser for his minion.

“One second Tony, let me introduce someone first. Guide Phelps, she’s taken over for Ms. Palfred.” Blair greeted her with a friendly hand wave. “Dr. Phelps, these are Special Agent Gibbs NCIS, Dr. Dinozzo BAU and Agent Sacks from the FBI.”

She seemed to be friendly enough. Phelps didn’t grin like she was dosed with Prozac and she sounded polite, she was two points ahead of her predecessor in Tony’s books.

“Good morning. I have to apologize, I wasn’t prepared for taking on a more active role on this case but I will do my best. According to the original plans I was scheduled to mainly help with the children.”

Did the Senior Guide really want Tony to express his opinion on this woman’s former boss in front of her? That was bad form and not something he would have thought Blair Sandburgh would go for. Unless- Tony stilled, then cleared his face into a pleasant mask, crossed his legs and leant back regally. “You want my professional opinion about Guide Palfred? Keep in mind that I’m not objective or clear minded at the moment Dr. Sandburgh.”

“Yep, gimme what you’ve got on her. We can chit chat or we can use our time and occupy ourselves by doing something useful.” Blair gave the outward impression of a big canine lazing in the sun with no care in the world, blind to the confused stares he got. “It’s gonna help with the assessment of the Center.”

Tony narrowed his eyes to slits and wrapped his shield tighter around himself and Gibbs. “Sybill Palfred. Level 4 or low level five Guide, came online in her early twenties, she is between thirty-two and thirty-six, above average intelligence, her life partner is male and a few years older than her. A Guide, dormant most likely due to physical injury. No children, no living relatives. She achieved a leading position at the DC center about five years ago. She works best with Sentinels at her own level or lower and generally avoids dealing hands on with emphatic events but is quite competent at organizing relieve efforts from afar. She’s the grey eminence in the organization, removed from the social heartbeat but pivotal to keeping everything running. Her coworkers describe her character as perfectionist and friendly, but not warm.”

Phelps nodded very slowly her eyes big and nervous. “She met her husband Jason at the Center; he nearly died and went dormant after his Sentinel was killed in action. But the rest… Are you basing your conclusions on your emphatic sense or your field of expertise? You’re a profiler?”

“That’s a misnomer, technically there’s no such classification in the FBI, profiling is a part of the job of a criminal analyst. It’s all about patterns and finding them, you know?” Tony explained patiently. “If your question is about my education, yeah, I’m a psychologist.  I can only repeat, my view on Sybill Palfred is biased and my boss wouldn’t accept it for a case file and it’s a mixture of mental impressions, her actions and what I think are her motivations.

“Palfred’s antipathy towards me has two root sources. A strong Alpha pair in the area has the potential to shake up everything in the community. Losing her position of power doesn’t bother her as much as losing it to someone she sees as inferior, it threatens the legacy she organized and helped to create and thus everything she holds dear.”

Blair gave every outward impression of totally concentrating on Tony. “And her attitude towards Alpha Sentinel Gibbs? Do you think she is jealous?”

“Ah, no.” Tony snorted, shuddered and then repeated himself. “God, no! Palfred fears Gibbs; she knows that he would overwhelm her completely as her Sentinel. She is besotted with the idea of him, not the reality. She might wish that it was different, but she has buried that wish very deeply. Convincing herself that she only wants what is best for the tribe without personal gain validates her decisions and protects her self-image. For a deeper analysis I would need more exposure to her, which I don’t want, thank you, or more data.”

Tony was aware of the startled and interested attention he had gained from everyone within the tent; even the Rangers had quit their discussion and had listened in.  They weren’t fixated on his walking stick any longer, that was for sure. Phelps didn’t look like she wished to be somewhere else anymore. Tony wanted to joke and diffuse the focus on his person but swallowed the need for it down and raised his chin a little higher instead.

“Casting her from our tribe will make her desperate and potentially dangerous in righteous anger,” Gibbs succinctly added his opinion from behind his Guide.

“With people who back her up covertly from inside her former center of power.” Tony finished his partners’ sentence without batting an eye.

Blair inclined his head and rubbed his hands together and smiled at everyone, clearly pleased with himself.

Voices outside the tent announced the arrival of a new group. Agent Fornell stepped inside, waited until Jim Ellison and two female FBI Agents passed him and then he closed the flap and took his place at the head of the table. The shadows under the FBI man’s eyes and his rumpled appearance hinted at a sleepless night.  “And now that the newlyweds have abandoned their honeymoon, we can get this show on the road. There has been no further contact with the kidnappers and I’m waiting for the recon team to report back to me.”

“I’m bonded, Tobias. Not married. Get it right.” Gibbs absentmindedly answered, his eyes irresistibly drawn to the lidded cup Fornell was cradling in his hands. Steam was gently rising above the raised rim and the delicious aroma of freshly brewed black coffee tantalized not only Tony’s nose.

“Should I get you one of your own? Before you go into withdrawal.” Tony asked and readied himself to stand up. Carrying one cup from the small kitchenette to the table wouldn’t give him trouble. Tony didn’t mind offering to fetch and carry, barista had been one of his jobs during college before his accident and he vividly remembered how much the former Marine loved the bitter brew; and how much of a Grizzly he could be without his caffeine.

Gibbs’ shoulders slumped. “Palfred said…”

“Eh.” Tony wrinkled his nose in distaste. “No, no, no, no. Nein, Njet. And I wondered why you are so tame.”

Gibbs stare could have curdled milk.

“Not that I intend to turn into your enabler, too much coffee is bad, but we need your formidable brain in tiptop shape and not slowed down because you went cold turkey.” Especially not on the advice of a two bit hack. “Dr. Sandburgh?”

Blair had been softly conversing with his own Sentinel and joined their conversation with Jim Ellison in tow. “Call me Blair, my mind is kind of tethered to yours, which calls for less formality. What’s the question?”

“Ok, Blair it is. I’m Tony. May I please caffeinate my Sentinel? If it isn’t harmful to do so, his marine soul is suffering.”

Ellison cracked a smile at Blair’s forlorn sigh.

“You uber-macho Sentinels are all the same.” The senior Guide complained. “I’ll share some tactics for weaning stubborn military types off their chosen poison Tony. Jethro, will you be satisfied with half-caf, for now?”

“I wouldn’t call it satisfied.” Gibbs grumbled but didn’t comment the threat in the other sentence.

Tony shook his head. “Last time your description went like: ‘piss masquerading as coffee’ when Danny handed you some. By the way, you traumatized the poor detective. He developed an ulcer and switched to tea after the case was closed and you left Baltimore again.”

“Less coffee wasted. Now, what’s that about a recon team? Tobias, you found a way to minimize the search area?”

“No need for you to go Dinozzo.” Fornell said. “Here, take my cup Gibbs. It’s fresh; I used it to warm my hands. I drank enough the last hours to keep at least one coffee plantation in business. Everyone, sit down. First, introductions are in order.”

The FBI Agent waited until everyone had found a place that appealed to them, then simply pointed at each person in turn, stated their name and occupation, short and sweet.

Gibbs had prodded Tony to the far end of the table, and placed himself between his Guide and everyone else.

Additionally to the two Sentinel-Guide pairs and himself there were two Park Rangers, Palfred’s replacement, Fornell’s team of four and a representative of the Boy Scout Section Alexandria. Leonie Blanchard was a middle aged woman with an open and friendly face who was nervously fiddling with a pen she shoved from hand to hand.

“We’ll have another meeting which will include police and SWAT leaders to plan and coordinate a rescue mission. Took some time but my techies narrowed the kidnappers’ hiding place down by elimination of different cellphone reception company overlays.” Fornell turned the laptop around to show a map of the area with parts of it highlighted in red.

“Michael’s cellphone number was of use?” Tony asked.

From the startled face this tidbit of information was news to the Boy Scout Organization Person. “Cell phone? The children were forbidden to take any electronic devices on the hike; cellphones were certainly on that list.”

“I insist that he always has a fully charged, personal back-up.” Tony was totally unapologetic about it. Was that woman complaining about something that potentially could help rescue the children? She should get her priorities straight. “If I had known that he couldn’t use it in an emergency- and I asked before we signed him up! -I wouldn’t have allowed him on the trip.”

“Our autumn Pure Nature Hike Week information package for parents advertises the lack electromagnetic wave contamination during long stretches of the trek. It’s the reason we issue satellite phones to the Scout Leaders on these special excursions.” Leonie Blanchard talked slowly and was notably very careful to formulate her response non-aggressively. From the way she was carefully not staring at Gibbs she regretted her decision to take the seat beside the NCIS agent.

It made Tony’s and consequently his Sentinel’s metaphorical hackles rise but not for the reasons she might have had in mind. “I can show you what I received and I assure you, I’ve read the print out more than once. Carefully. Trust me, there’s isn’t anything in there about being cut off from the world!”

“I edited this year’s folder myself. The city kids not getting distracted by even the lure of modern communication was a selling point and not hidden somewhere in the small print at all.” Blanchard slowly put down her pen on the table top.

Tony brandished his own cellphone. “Your precious folder is in my desk at work. Give me five minutes and my assistant will scan and email it to my phone if you don’t trust my word!”

“I remember reading about lack of cell phone reception but I wasn’t concerned. That’s a mistake I won’t repeat when it comes to my daughter. If Tony says that his version lacks that section, I believe him.” Gibbs growled.

Fornell’s sharp whistle drew the attention of all people in the makeshift room. “Guys! And madam. Calm down. We’ll certainly investigate if the information was deliberately excluded. There might be a connection to the case.”

“Not likely, but double check.” Gibbs ordered and threw his empty and crumpled up cup into a waste basket already half full with similar cups.

Fornell raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment on the highhanded command. “Back to business.  Since none of the criminals knew to search for a back-up on a seven year old boy chances are good he still has it with him. Dr. Dinozzo assured me that his son knows the importance of keeping it hidden. It’s a good alternative way to find them beside Gibbs’ ears.”

It was also the perfect way to make the kidnappers angry at his son but Tony didn’t want to linger on that too much. Gibbs pressed his tight against Tony’s.

“Mr. Anderson and our Wild Life experts narrowed the search area further down. They pinpointed these two potential starting points for Gibbs to try and locate his daughter; from there his range should cover 78% of the dead reception areas in question. We dismissed any which wouldn’t offer enough cover for thirty people to hide and factored in possible escape routes the kidnappers might favor. We’re waiting on our reconnaissance teams to give word if the coast is clear, we don’t want to tip off any lookouts.”

The word lookout reminded Tony about a minor puzzle he had tried to solve this morning. “How did you avoid alerting the press? Intrigue, missing kids, a conspiracy and foreign politics – all the damn carrion feeders’ favorite dishes combined. I expected to wake up to them laying siege on this camp.”

Fornell’s smile was pure evil. “We issued an information black-out; the first who blabs will have my boot up their ass and a lawsuit. As far as the press is concerned, this is a long planned emergency drill to improve interagency cooperation.”

“It won’t fool them for long.” Blair cautioned. “Jim is keeping an ear out for some catchphrases and for undue outside interest on our camp’s borders. I have my fingers on the general emotions floating around. Everyone is doing what they are supposed to be doing, mostly, but this operation is too big to stay under the radar for long and this kind of surveillance is neither foolproof nor can Jim keep it going for too long. And it doesn’t prevent someone back in the DC offices of either our organizations blabbing to the press.”

“It never does either way.” Fornell agreed. “Thankfully a prolific Senator got caught in a bar brawl early this morning. Let’s hope it distracts them for a little bit longer.”

A certain tilt to the FBI Agent’s head and the way he touched his ear made everyone shut up.

“Good news. Both our teams report no electronic surveillance and no lookouts. We’ll take two of the Park ranger Jeeps to avoid attention and let Gibbs do his thing. If he finds-”

Tony tensed up and Gibbs growled.

“When he finds his daughter,” Fornell amended “our surveillance van can get closer and locate the phone, as long as it is still active. Move people!”

He didn’t have to tell them twice.

TBC

 


	6. Chapter 6

Their first destination was a totally unremarkable spot deep in the woods with nothing to distinguish it from the rest of the forest but the word of the Park Ranger that it was the place they needed and nothing to endear it to Tony: uneven, difficult to travel on forest road and lots of trees and other assorted greenery. Or should that be color-y this time of the year? Tony mused and took the long way around an uprooted tree trunk to get a little bit further away from the mundanes. His crutches slipped regularly and Tony clenched his teeth.

No matter what the lore said about SG pairs and their affinity for wilderness and untouched nature (and not taking his leg into account at all, fuck you, everyone) Tony decided that he was the new generation of Guide; and Nature, after they found their kids, would be left to wildlife!

They had found out fast that Gibbs couldn’t stand having anyone mundane not in his sight when he tried to use his senses to the point where he wasn’t aware of his immediate surroundings anymore. This was apparently (according to a short lecture by Dr. Sandburgh) not the same as zoning at all. The senior guide used a heap of neurological words and statistics. Tony was familiar with the terms because of his own work at the BAU but had no patience left to engage in intellectual discourse. If he had the will, time and energy to slot them correctly he could have made perfect sense of them but- Tony closed his eyes and licked his lips.

He liked Blair, really, he did. Tony couldn’t help it if this much enthusiasm and energy irritated the hell out of him at the moment. Or it was mainly Gibbs that wanted to gag the quirky Guide.

It was a vicious circle.  With every tactic that Blair suggested and that failed, Gibbs got tenser and Tony got more nervous, which transferred to his bonded. The senior pair had used the time during the drive to coach them but half an hour in a swerving off-road vehicle was a poor substitute for extensive training in a stress-free environment.

Sitting down Buddha-style to meditate? Tony could have told Blair that was never going to happen with Gibbs. Neither was his Sentinel happy with being touched under his shirt by his guide nor was holding hands an option to anchor him. Gibbs didn’t come across as a man who was fond of public displays of affection and if the safety of their kids hadn’t depended on their success, Tony would have teased him about it.

Despite his irritation Tony couldn’t help but admire his Guide-brother’s calm, Blair didn’t feel or sound hurt or annoyed with the increasingly short tempered responses he got for his suggestions. And there was slow progress to show for their work by eliminating interfering factors, albeit small ones. Slow, time consuming progress.

“I could lead you both in a meditation circle but-“

Gibbs visceral reaction to the word meditation alone made both Guides and Jim wince.

“Blair, stop.” Tony closed his eyes halfway and projected as much calm and confidence as he could.

“We can’t give up now-“

“Not giving up. Trying it differently. Can you two go over to the rest of the group and, uhm, keep everything calm and relaxed?”

Jim gave him a sharp, calculating look and then herded Blair away. “Come on Chief, let him do his thing. You’ve got more experience than him but he knows Gibbs better than you.”

Blair tugged at his hair. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right.”

Tony waited until they had some privacy and then concentrated on his Sentinel. Outwardly Gibbs was the picture of a stoic soldier. His face was turned away and his breathing was calm and deep. Under the surface-

“You’ll find Kelly.” The younger man stated.

“Never had problems concentrating before.” Gibbs muttered bitterly.

Tony sighed. “Do you know the proverb ‘don’t try to be an apple if you’re a banana, you’ll just be a second rate apple’? We’ve been trying to take shortcuts by copy/pasting normal Sentinel tactics. To do something first rate we need to do it _our_ way.”

Gibbs turned his head until he fully faced his Guide. His eyes were a haunted, murky blue-grey.

“You’re a Sniper.”

“You really did your homework.” The ghost of a smile tugged at Gibbs’ lips and disappeared a second later.

“Yep. So, forget dials, forget radios, cockpits or whatnot. Gibbs, you hate everything that was invented after 1985! Why would you allow it into your head when you feel so vulnerable? Use your strengths. I’m clueless when it comes to long range shots but they ideally involve a spotter because the sniper can get lost in the shot, a target, a rifle and lots of concentration and skill on the shooter’s part. Doesn’t that dynamic sound familiar?”

For half a minute neither of the two men moved. Then, in the blink of an eye Tony found himself with Gibbs wrapped around him for a second and a hard, short kiss pressed to his mouth. The lips were cold, it was over before it began but Tony felt like he had touched a life wire. “Uh.”

“Move it, Dinozzo!”

Tony blinked and then scrambled clumsily after Gibbs who was striding to a slightly higher section of the clearing, away from the curious stares of their entourage. Small malnourished bushes, helplessly outclassed by the trees that kept sunlight from them for half the year, provided further cover.

“Sit down. Be silent, don’t distract me, if you have to alert me to something, touch my ankles.” Gibbs lay down on his front uncaring of dirt, poking twigs and moisture, his upper body slightly raised on his arms, his face in the general direction they thought the kidnappers were likely to be. It was like magic, a few wriggles, his dark clothing seemed to melt into the ground, leaves covering him as if on command.

All Tony could do was matching his breaths to his mate’s rhythm and guard his mate. Shadows were slowly crawling across the ground back to the objects that cast them. They hadn’t reached the turning point fully; midday wasn’t here yet, when the Sentinel exhaled sharply and sat up.

“She’s alive. Kelly is well.”

If Kelly was ok, Michael should be too, he had to trust in that. Tony took a deep breath. “Can you stay locked onto her for a bit?”

“Now that I've found her? Yeah, easily.”

Tony suspected that it would be hard work to convince him to  _stop_  listening.

Jim had heard them and was on the way, Blair at his side and the other’s straggling behind. Gibbs’s eyes were focused on nothing, his head tilted to one side and his right arm and hand pointed in the direction where Kelly’s heart was beating. The Park Ranger notated the exact direction in his map.

“How do you know that she isn’t injured?” Sacks questioned.

Fornell waved the question away with an impatient gesture. “Gibbs knows his daughter’s heartbeat better than his own. More important, how far away is she?”

Gibbs grimaced and visibly tuned out his captive audience.

Blair answered in his stead. “That’s the problem we have to tackle now. Small step, people, small steps. He has a handle on how to zero in on Kelly, now we have to teach him the finer points of judging the distance. Before anyone complains, Tony isn’t the deciding factor, neither is Gibbs’ strength. He simply lacks the reference and experience. His brain is used to measure distance according to how he used his senses before coming fully online and - ahem, he had decades to assemble and get used to points of reference-“

“I want to go to the other outpost. Move it.” Gibbs demanded.

Blair shook his head hard enough to make his curls bounce. “No, it wouldn’t get you any additional information and loses us time, you need to train-“

Tony ignored his mentor, hesitated; looked into the icy blue eyes of his mate which were nearly burning with determination. “Why?”

“Two known angles connected by-“

“One known distance! Pythagoras.” If he could Tony would have danced. “Good old math beats SGC!”

“Math helps SGC.” Blair corrected him but he was smiling.

Gibbs strode away. “I don’t care if they fuck and have offspring, let’s hurry.”

TBC

 


	7. Chapter 7

Two precious hours later and every able bodied and experienced member of the camp were ready and chomping at the chance to extract the hostages and kick some criminal ass. Of course that eager group included the newly bonded parents most of all, which according to Agent Fornell didn’t alter the fact that they weren’t allowed to participate in the bust. No matter how much Gibbs tried to bully his friend, the FBI agent didn’t budge.

“Jethro, I understand.” Fornell was either very stupid or very brave, putting himself in the way of a snarling, angry Sentinel. “If Em was out there in danger I wouldn’t want anyone else to rescue her either, but I wouldn’t be allowed to do so and we can’t risk you going feral on top of your compromised state.”

“I would never hurt a child!” Gibbs was nearly shouting in outrage.

“And I personally don’t care what you’d do to the asshats as long as you leave someone alive for me to interrogate! But there aren’t only kids out there. No traumatized kid should witness someone tearing apart their tormentors and you aren’t too fond of the Scouts people at the moment to differentiate between annoying and foe.”

Gibbs mulishly shook his head and snarled. He didn’t want to back down and Tony damn well didn’t want him to either! They were so near to being able to rescue their kids and those assholes demanded that they let other people do their job? Trust that the other agents and teams would be competent, after the fuck ups of the last days? Hell, no!

Fornell rubbed over his bald head and grimaced. “We don’t have time to waste- damn it. Parker!”

A sting, shocking because of its suddenness, bloomed on Tony’s ass and the last thing he saw and felt before everything went black was Gibbs’ rage.

-+-+-+-+-+-+

Waking up with the mother of all headaches was not something Tony wanted to do ever again and contrary to the insincere oaths of drunks everywhere he meant the promise with all his heart. Whatever he had done to himself would be banned from his life, alcohol had nothing on it. College binges and subsequent misery the mornings after hadn’t prepared him for this! A proverbial marching band in his head, fog around his brain and the rest of his body was – better not think about it too much. His misery was made worse by the fact that he didn’t only feel his own hurt. Now that he was more aware his brain complained about dealing with hurting in a weird sort of double freak feature and the last time he looked into a mirror he certainly didn’t have two heads! Echoes of aches and pain not his own gave him a severe case of vertigo and if it didn’t stop soon- well, Tony knew that throwing up wouldn’t help at all but tell that to his own stomach, never mind Gibbs’. Stinky wasn’t an attribute that needed to be added to this mess, no Sir.

Another factor helping his monster headache along was the damn noise! Whoever was torturing some small animal just around the corner should be stopped and arrested. It sounded painfully pathetic, all that whimpering and hitching breath and-

“Dinozzo?” The whisper was clearly intended as soft and calming. And it was a familiar voice, thankfully not in weird stereo either. The tortured sounds quit too.

“Don’t try to open your eyes yet, they told us that you’d be very sensitive to light and sound.” Sacks instructed. “Before you try to strangle me: your kids are fine, your Sentinel is only sleeping and will wake up soon. The extraction went according to plan. There’s some last minute clean-up but they’ll be here soon with all the freed hostages.”

Michael was safe. Tony would kill sacks if he’d lied.

Something cold and vaguely familiar shaped was pressed into one of his hands. Tony tightened his grip. The way the content sloshed inside – oh, something to drink in a plastic bottle. Muscle memory was such a useful thing when his brain was sore and moments later he had the open bottle at his lips and sipped without having to involve higher brain functions.

The salty-sweet liquid ran down his parched throat and the bottle was empty too soon. Breathing exercises he hadn’t used in years calmed Tony down enough so he wouldn’t throw the bottle at Sacks, then take the agent’s service weapon and hunt down Fornell, the bald, backstabbing fucker of an FBI Supervisory Agent.

“Your boss ha’ us shot. Full o’ tranqu’lizer. T’ wasn’t an impulsive ‘cision either. Bashdar’ planned for it long term.” The words rolled sluggishly over his tongue, slow, a little bit slurred and without inflection. Tony dared to pry his heavy eyelids open.

Tony took inventory of his surroundings. They were sitting in an unmoving FBI van. The scenery outside was blurry and dark but not in motion, the vehicle wasn’t swaying. Sacks and someone else were in the front. Ron Sacks contorted himself to reach back and exchange the empty one for another bottle and added headache pills as an additional peace offering. “That’s true, but-“

 “The asshole had us shot full with tranquilizer, kept us away from Kelly and Michael.” Tony repeated and elaborated with more force, now that his memory came back fully. He could tell without looking that the warm presence he was leaning on was his Sentinel, still out of it, breathing fitfully. Sacks could count himself lucky that Tony’s faithful walking stick -as well as the crutches- was absent or he would beat Ron over the head with them.

“Boss had orders.”

“What part of SHOT escaped your attention Ron? You don’t shoot your fellow Agents, that’s against every thin blue line rule, every federal bro-code and hey, how about common fucking decency? If Gibbs or our kids got injured because-”

“I gave him the antidote a few minutes later than I dosed you. He should be up and out for my blood inside ten minutes, don’t worry. Just thought it would be better to wake you up first.”

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to calculate why Sacks hadn’t woken them the other way round. Tony wriggled until he could turn around and inspect his partner without elbowing the unconscious man. The angry Guide didn’t hold back on colorful descriptions of torture he wanted to inflict on stupid Agents and the low volume he used was in deference to his headache and not because he wanted to spare the sensibilities of his companions.

Gibbs looked like hell. He took up most of the space on the backseat, half lying, half propped up in a corner. A good Samaritan had stuffed a rolled up blanket behind the Sentinel’s neck and removed the boots on both Gibbs and Tony’s feet to make them more comfortable. Another emergency blanket pooled and clogged up the foot space between back and fond of the car. It must have covered them and sled down when Tony woke up.

Gibbs’ face looked like he picked a fight with the ground and the ground won. Tony reached out and stroked featherlighty over the deep scratches on the other man’s temple and judged the amount of dried blood that darkened the already dark fabric at the throat and front of the sweater to a deep black. Someone should have taught the FBI agents how to catch suddenly unconscious people. Skin color and respiration were good so his best bet was that the reason was a head wound and not a serious injury. Head wounds, no matter how small always bled like the devil.

“Out of curiosity, how dangerous do you think a serious concussion would have been in combination with being sedated?” Tony asked mildly, not bothering to turn around. There was no dried blood or dirt on his Sentinel’s skin but Tony’s sharp eyes found traces in the hairline and the strands that looked suspiciously stringy and clumped together.

“Very?” Sacks volunteered and cringed audibly.

“Hm. I’ll lend you some medical books and discuss it with … Parker, was his name, yes?- and your dear team leader.”

“Our doctor checked and found no-“ Phelps -she was the second person guarding them- offered but an angry snarl from Tony made her shut up again.

Gibbs’ breathing rhythm changed slowly and the unnatural stillness he was caught in lessened. He was indeed waking up. Sacks offered more bottles of electrolytic fluids to Tony and left the Guide to the unenviable task of gentling the nearly feral Sentinel back to consciousness without anyone getting maimed.

Tony hesitated. If Gibbs’ headache rivaled his own, combined with his sensitive hearing, using his voice to calm him down would harm more than it would help. Finally he remembered what had worked once before and regulated his own breathing rhythm to something that resembled calm and loosely wrapped his right hand around his Sentinel’s left ankle. The strong pulse beat and the warmth of the skin felt good under Tony’s fingers. Gibbs had surprisingly slender and delicate looking feet, pale and sprinkled with few coarse hairs visible in the gap between socks and trousers. And the fearsome NCIS agent wore sensible, threadbare sports socks with silly smiley faces. _Huh._

Tony’s thumb stroked over a little face with a pink stuck out tongue. The foot jerked and he looked up directly into icy blue eyes. He had missed Gibbs waking up fully and was surprised by the vivid presence suddenly blooming from closed to open in their mental connection. Maybe the sedative was still messing with Tony’s brain, making him slow?

Tony swallowed heavily and tightened his grip, tried to reel his Sentinel back to civilization, because all he could see in those blue depths was vicious mayhem and bloody bits of everyone who dared to challenge this wild predator.  “Where are Jim and Blair?” Tony slowly asked.

“They insisted on participating in the op to make sure the mundanes don’t fuck up further, and that’s a direct quote. Ellison said to tell you that he’d act as if the kids were his own. No reason for you to go berserk; and to enforce that everything is gonna be all right- where is it? Ah yes, they left something for me to show you-“ Ron held up an evidence bag and had to snatch it out of reach the next moment because Gibbs threw himself forward to grab it.

Tony clung to his Sentinel and had to use his considerable upper body strength to drag him back into their impromptu nest. That he succeeded at all was a tribute to his being a guide and Gibbs was hardwired to avoid hurting him.

“Kelly… “

“Ok, we’re back to verbal! That’s progress, isn’t it but- Ron? What the hell?”

 “Uh, ok, I shouldn’t have sprung that on Gibbs?” Sacks asked meekly and earned derisive stares from the two guides.

“Men, totally useless.” Phelps commented, plugged the bag out of the FBI agent’s nerveless fingers and opened it further without touching the content. “Tony, don’t let your Sentinel concentrate too much on the olfactory impressions.”

“Now, if you could tell me how to accomplish-?”

“Did you sleep through Guide school? Involve his other senses, distract him. Lick your fingertips and stick them into his mouth. Taste and touch to overwhelm smell.”

“I’ve only had a few basic classes, a long, long time ago!” Tony eyed the dangerously barred teeth and pulled back lips but then did as suggested. Blame it on ingrained social mores but if it was him he would have thought being fed spit was disgusting. He expected to be bit. Or punched. Instead, after a few seconds of complete stillness, Gibbs sucked and hummed. Tony blushed.

“Ok, and now pull back again, keep calm, serene. I’ll open the bag wider.”

Incredulous green eyes darted to the front of the car and then hurriedly back because the feral Sentinel had grumbled and nipped at the fingertips in censure. Gibbs really didn’t like Tony’s attention on anyone else but him.

Plastic rustled and Gibbs turned his head.

“Give him a few seconds, then distract him again, don’t let him slip as far down as the last time. You should be able to guess the best moment.”

Phelps and Tony tag teamed in order to get the Sentinel back from the brink. Each purposeful switch in sensory focus seemed to lessen the wildness in Gibbs. Dinozzo was relieved to witness more and more awareness return to blue eyes. It was wrong on so many levels to see the usually composed and in charge man fall victim to his baser nature.

Finally, with a strangled, embarrassed huff Gibbs wretched his face away from Tony’s throat –which had been the most recent counter measure – and banged his fist once, controlled, against the car window.

Tony backed away.

Phelps sucked in and then released her breath in a long, exhausted heave. “Sentinel Prime Gibbs?” Mandy Phelps had done her best to stay far away until Gibbs fully calmed down, practically hiding behind Sacks as much as it was possible in the cramped car interior.

“I prefer Special Agent.” Gibbs gave her a once over that made her squirm.

“That’s all right. Agent Sacks told me that you are not fond of apologies but, what the FBI ordered and – They shot you!- I-“

“Will it make anything better other than you feeling better about yourself?” Gibbs interrupted her but his voice wasn’t harsh. “No? Then forget it.”

“But!”

A hard stare and she sank down in her seat into a miserable little heap of young woman. She mumbled something under her breath, Tony couldn’t discern a word but whatever it had been, it made his partner feel a spike of amusement.

“Spit it out.” Gibbs demanded.

“We did you a disservice by how we exploited the MBS.” Phelps opened, apropos of nothing.

“I agreed to everything.”

Both of them had. Tony nodded in agreement. It had been the fastest and most efficient method. Fanatics were notoriously ruthless when dealing with non-essential hostages.

“It eroded your self-control as we knew it would. Your kid and your guide, those are the strongest breaking points for a Sentinel.” The Center guide reiterated. “Chances were high that you’d go into feral battle drive as soon as you had a lock on Kelly and yes, Guide Dinozzo was similarly slipping due to the link to you.” Another annoyed huff.

“But you are right as rain now, which proves we could have accomplished that without them shooting you, it made things worse! Look at how functional you are, individually and as a couple! You should both be feral and immersed in each other, MBS or no MBS, not being socially active. They are morons.”

Sacks giggled and then reddened when the other three occupants of the van stared at him incredulously. “Gibbs being considered social.” The agent tried to explain.

“Oh you, shut up.” Mandy glowered at her FBI colleague. “All dour and by the book by day and only showing emotions when it is dark outside?”

Tony hummed ‘Sweet Transvestite’. “You’d make a decent Frankenfurther, Ron, you’ve got the legs. Instead of the fishnets and leather outfit try the man-kini. You seem to know where to get one.”

“Should I be worried that you’ve checked out my legs?” Ron bantered back.

Both winced when Gibbs, lightning quick, delivered a sharp slap to the back of each younger man’s head. “That- “ He pointed at the evidence bag. “Where did you find it?” 

“Gibbs, I told you- “ Sacks grimaced. “Eh. You might not remember that part. Alpha Prime Ellison gave it to me with instructions-“

“Short version, please, we both have a headache.” Tony interrupted him.

“I’ll be brief, if you don’t interrupt me again Dinozzo. The reconnaissance team used triangulation and then Michael’s cellphone to find the enemy camp, that’s the last you’ve heard before your… hm, time-out. Ellison hand-picked four agents and one of the local Sentinels and took a look, followed his nose and found something interesting. Gibbs provided some unwashed clothes-“

Gibbs made an impatient gesture. Strange men sniffing at his princess’ clothes- ok, not a good thought.

“Don’t glare at me like that Gibbs and keep it together, your kids deserve coming back to supportive parents. Those two especially! You’ve got awesome children, Fornell is already thinking about the best tactics to entice them into the FBI as soon as they are old enough.”

Fornell was due one black eye or two!

“Twenty minutes outside where the kidnappers set up their camp Ellison struck gold. Someone had cleverly hidden a small bundle under a heap of leaves. It was wrapped in the undershirt,” Sacks pointed to the evidence bag “and contained a small snack box. Inside we’ve found the cell and a handwritten note with explanations. Your two rascals have been separated from the main group before the criminals showed up and witnessed the whole thing, took a lot of pictures with the phone which was essential to figure out the best way to attack; told us that one of the Scouts leaders was involved which helped a lot. Ellison sent someone back to base with the shirt so we could help keep Gibbs sane. The kidnappers didn’t expect an attack this soon. All six kidnappers and Judy Markovic are in custody as of 50 minutes ago. As soon as the doctors are finished with- ah” Sacks touched his ear.

“They are here!”

Sacks didn’t have to tell them twice, Gibbs and Dinozzo scrambled out of the vehicle, neither man caring about their lack of footwear.

 TBC


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the longer wait, this chapter gave me some problems. In the end I've deleted half of it and wrote it completely differently. I'm happy with the flow. I would be happier if I could get a better grasp at casual dialogue but I never learned how to write it.  
> Thank you to all the people who posted a response, I am very happy and surprised by the interest in my story and I hope you will enjoy this chapter.

Long hugs and unfocused babbling and maybe a few tears later everyone calmed down enough for a normal conversation, or at least for something that resembled normal for a group that had been thrown together by chance and destiny. Tony was aware that they were discreetly guarded by a circle of agents and Sacks had followed Guide and Sentinel as well, but at the moment all he cared about was the warm, breathing kid in his arms.

“Dad, Nature’s all over me, I want it gone! Now!” Michael’s lower lip trembled pathetically and he scratched his grubby neck. “Everything’s itchy and crawling. No matter what mom says, I’m not joining the Scouts!”

His tirade made the adults stare and Kelly sigh in exasperation. “A little mud won’t kill you! You know that you’re the king of awful whiners?”

Tony could tell from the way Sacks and Gibbs braced themselves that they expected an affronted temper tantrum and grinned when his son only stuck his nose in the air and sniffed and went to stand in front of the girl.

“Ever heard of infection, fleas, worms, rashes? The plague?”

Kelly tugged at the boy’s stringy hair. “You can’t get plague from lack of cleanliness.”

Tony observed with wide eyes how Michael, instead of trying to avoid the touch and giving a pithy retort smiled up at the girl. He didn’t know if he should be happy that the kids wouldn’t fight like cats and dogs or fear what that dynamic duo would concoct together.

“Never washing themselves couldn’t have helped and I’ve seen you wriggle and scratch too! Nope, I don’t like Nature.”

Tony laughed. “I’ll have to buy you a houseplant to prevent you falling prey to chlorophobia*.”

“So I can kill it? Like the rubber fig Nicolle gave you as a birthday present?”

“I thought about a bonsai tree, you can take a little revenge on something green and keep it alive at the same time.” Michael’s father suggested thoughtfully and then, in remembrance of the poor dead former potted plant he decided to add a carrot. “And maybe I should add a reward if it survives half a year, what do you say?”

“Dad, you told me it’s bad to therapy your own family. Hm, I need a new i-pod. Hey Kelly, what sort of bonsai tree should he get me? A fir-“

“Or an oak?” Kelly finished and both kids giggled and began to playfully shove each other.

Tony decided not to ask what that was about and smiled when he saw how careful the teenager was to match but never overwhelm the younger kid. It was a relief to see their children laughing and joking about negligible problems. There would be enough nightmares about being held hostage in the near future, he grimly suspected, but he would tackle that when it happened. He shared a long look with Gibbs. The dirt could be dealt with much easier.

“I’d think the paramedics wouldn’t have let you two out of their clutches if you were hurt? Then the next point on the agenda should be a shower and new clothes.” Tony interrupted their play. The question was a formality; Gibbs would have reacted differently if he had smelled blood on them.

Kelly was eying him thoughtfully and Tony was astonished at how much that reminded him of her father’s stare. She didn’t resemble Gibbs much. Her skin was a shade lighter, typically for a redhead and her facial structure was delicate with a pointed chin and pronounced cheek bones. All that coltish grace would turn into a stunning woman all too soon. If Tony had to guess he would say that she took after her mom in her looks, but she shared her father’s eye color and the intensity. She turned her head to scrutinize her dad, then him again.

“You’re really dad’s Guide. Uncle Toby told me, I see it’s true.” It was a statement, not a question. “Dad hasn’t bitten off your head for making decisions for me.” she elaborated in reaction to Tony’s astonished face.

Gibbs had been very silent, even for Gibbs. “Does it bother you? Him being my guide?”

Tony froze. Michael detached himself from Kelly and went to his own dad, betraying his young age by pressing himself firmly against his dad’s body, his back to Tony’s front. Both Dinozzos warily paid close attention to the other pair. “He’s much cuter than Diane.”

“Yes, he is.” Gibbs agreed solemnly.

“If he’s your Guide, that means they’ll live with us, yes?”

“We haven’t talked about it. But it’s likely.” Her father agreed.

Another long, thoughtful glance was thrown to the two observers. “Could be worse, Michael is cool, for a little kid.” She proclaimed and grinned when the boy in question flailed in outrage. “But I’m not sharing with him, he’s gonna get the guest room.”

“I don’t want to share with a stupid girl either!” the boy grumbled.

One thing after the other was something Tony had decided was an excellent tactic and he followed it now with determination. Like a sailor gone overboard clinging to the rickety raft. On second thought, more like a shipwrecked guy unable to let go of his beach ball. “We’ll see. Showers first. If there are showers available. Sacks! Tell me there are showers. Real ones!”

Sacks grinned. “There are showers, don’t worry. They aren’t state of the art but we’ve got some field bathrooms for big ops like this one. I ordered one unit to be parked beside the bonding van.”

“Ronnie, you’re my favorite Field FBI Agent.”

“Why, thank you, that was my goal in life.” Sacks snarked back. “It will take at least half a day until anyone is allowed to go home. For you it might be even longer. We debriefed your kids and Liandra Greenburgh first and thought it would be best to separate Michael and Kelly from the main group. Dr. Sandburgh encouraged it as well, because it will give you time to acclimate yourself to the new situation.“ he sighed. “Kids, Agent Fornell asked you about it already, I know, but would you please repeat for your parents what you told the other Scouts about your spy adventure and why you kept it silent? I’ll show you the way to the showers afterward, I promise.”

Kelly wrinkled her nose. “We didn’t tell the other kids or the Scout Leaders anything, of course.”

“Nope, not after Miss Judy showed herself to be a traitor!” Michael added earnestly. “Who’d say that one of the kids wasn’t in on it too? And then the asshats would be furious with us and all that sneaking and plotting would have been for nothing. I don’t want to see any of them ever again. I was scared they’d find our message capsule, dad. Really scared.”

“Me too.” Kelly admitted softly.

“I would have been scared too, that’s only smart in such a predictament.” Tony ignored the swearing, he thought Michael had earned the right to call the criminals whatever he thought was fitting. Tony would call them much worse. Scared was too mild a description too, from the way his kid trembled underneath his hands on the small shoulders.

“What Tony said, listen to him, he is right. I’m so proud of you, you both kept a clear head and survived, that’s all we expect from you.” Gibbs gruffly hugged his daughter and sent one of his rare, warm smiles to Michael.

Both kids were very satisfied with their cunning and preened, accepting the praise as their due, the terror they had endured forgotten for the moment. That didn’t mean that Tony wouldn’t look for the perfect counselor to help them cope.

Sacks signaled the adults, touched his earwig, mouthed the word ‘later’ and then pointed at his watch. The agent wanted to elaborate on something but didn’t want the children to listen in. “Ok, follow me.”

Guide Phelps, forgotten until now, slipped the walking stick into Tony’s right hand and then melted back into the shadows.

“You found our bags at the real camp, Agent Sacks?” Kelly asked and two hopeful faces turned imploringly to the tall agent.

“Some of my teammates did, yes. Your things are waiting for you.”

“Good, ‘cause I want out of these!” Michael exclaimed and then stared down his body and to his feet. “They made us sleep in our clothes and sneakers. On the earth! With only some thin blankets like you see in the old Wild West movies. The grey and scratchy horse blankets, you know? I can smell my feet.” He gagged theatrically. “I’ll throw the sneakers away first chance I get.”

Gibbs had been about to prod Kelly so she would follow after the FBI Agent but something about the way Michael complained made him hesitate and scrutinize the boy.

Tony tilted his head questioningly but didn’t get any response but a slight headshake from his Sentinel. Another ‘later’ for the pile.

“Dad?”

Long experience had made Tony recognize impending doom by the inflection, “Yes?”

Michael was still staring down, his expression hidden from Tony’s eyes because of the tilt of the boy’s head. “Dad. Where are _your_ shoes? You know that you’re not allowed to go around in your socks; it’s bad for you balance! You’ll injure yourself.”

One dirty finger pointed at the offending feet and clear, stern green eyes stared up at Tony and then zeroed in on Gibbs’ shoeless feet like a guided missile. Michael huffed and Tony hurried to put the blame where it belonged before his worrywart of a son could decide that his new step-sentinel daddy** was the one responsible.

“Agent Fornell took them away!”

“Then he should give them back.” Michael ordered.

Sacks laughed. “I’ll find them.”

Michael scrunched up his face and plastered himself to his father’s side, pointed out every stone and furrow on their way to the van.

Like promised there was a new addition to their special corner of the camp. The organization fairies had parked the mobile bathroom trailer near the van, angled it so it shielded the entrances from view. Two colorful kid rucksacks, one of them very familiar to Tony, had been placed in front. The vehicle looked a little beaten up, not as shiny and new as the emergency bonding unit, but clean and serviceable with two doors and iron stairs leading up to two separated small hygiene units. Tony didn’t know where the water supply would come from, he didn’t care either.

The kids hurried ahead, first to the bags and then to one of the doors each, the need to get rid of the dirty mementos of their adventure apparent. Tony wasn’t surprised when Gibbs ordered them to stay back and wait until he had checked the inside. The children bore the overprotective behavior with impatience, shuffled and hopped around and nearly stumbled over their own feet in haste when Gibbs appeared from his inspection and nodded. Before they closed the doors both kids stuck their head outside again, looked where their parents waited for them and then disappeared inside.

The three adults listened and smiled when pipes rattled and then childish laughter rose.

“They’ll take their time, until all the warm water is gone.” Gibbs predicted. “Sacks?”

“Dr. Sandburgh and Detective Ellison decided to keep an eye and a lid on the situation at the main tent. Sandburgh needs to be there in order to shield you two from the emotional hub-tub. It’s like a circus over there, trust me.”

Over two dozen rescued kids and their parents meeting again, Dinozzo didn’t have to use much imagination to picture the situation and he didn’t envy Blair. This was the first time he spared a thought to the wellbeing of the other hostages and maybe he should feel bad but then he shoved the thought away. He had done his part and beyond. One of his professors  at Ohio had once told him that it was the height of arrogance to take responsibility for everyone in a crisis because it said that you thougth that other people are always less qualified to deal with the problem.

“Two of the little Scouts’ parents are in the news industry; one is a reporter, the other one works for a local radio station. At the moment they are too busy with their children but you know how reporters tick, it won’t be long until inside scoops and interviews will be too alluring to ignore.”

“Yeah, I bet they are already composing their flashy opening statements. ‘How my kid survived kidnapping hell’” Tony grimaced. Human nature could be very ugly indeed.

“There are only a handful people who know that your children managed to fool the kidnappers but-“

“A handful is four too many.” Gibbs commented. “The best way to keep a secret? Keep it to yourself. Second best? Tell one other person - if you must.”

Tony raised an eyebrow questioningly.

Gibbs shrugged with his shoulders. “There’s no third best. Rule four.”

“At this point I’m equally unhappy about revealing to Melanie Blanchard, the Boy Scout coordinator that Michael was involved somehow. Back at the meeting, remember?” Tony waited until Gibbs had nodded. “This has to be a public relations nightmare for the Boy Scouts and I wouldn’t put it past them to try and use ‘two young heroic members’ to redirect blame and attention.”

“We didn’t tell her anything further, she only heard about the cell phone but-“ Sacks cautioned and then unhappily fell silent again without finishing his sentence.

Tony’s smile showed a lot of teeth. “If they try to misuse my kid I’ll sic my frat brothers on them.”

“You know that I’m in law enforcement and would have to arrest you and them if I find out that you had the idiots beaten up, no matter how much they’d deserve it. Are your frat brothers in the mob?” Sacks didn’t sound too worried about the prospect.

Tony laughed gleefully and loud. “They are the best kind of god-fathers all right! Mob, though? Not at all. Something more dangerous, they are lawyers. You know, the man eating white shark variety on two legs. Pete and Nathan love my kid and fought about about who would get the honor of being named god-father. In the end they decided to share.”

“They sound like the only lawyers I’d not hate.” Gibbs was intently staring at his Guide, his head tilted to the right side.

Tony didn’t know what might bother the other man, his tether only transmitted curiosity and wonder. “I know, they are my best buds but as soon as they enter a court room they get scary.” The carnage in defense of Michael would be glorious and imagining it brightened Tony’s mood and smile considerably. The impression he got from Gibbs didn’t wane and got more intense instead.

“What are you thinking about?” Tony decided to ask.

“Nothing.” Gibbs deflected. “Sacks, I want to go home.”

“I hear you, but the powers-that-be are wary about letting you out of their clutches. They want to make sure that their new shiny Sentinel-Guide pair is stable. There’s no way they would let you into a car without a driver and I heard the senior pair speculate about your living situation, if everything at home was prepared and up to snuff. Sandburgh and Ellison, are the ones you have to persuade, they have to give the final o.k. for you to go home.” Sacks braced himself for a negative reaction.

To his and Tony’s surprise the Sentinel only shifted his stance, pressed his lips together in displeasure but that was all.

“I don’t like it but I don’t trust myself to drive a car just yet, not with the kids and my guide as passengers.”

Oh, that admittance had to hurt the proud man. Tony couldn’t help but feel annoyed that he was categorically shoved into the passenger role but decided to let it slide. If Gibbs could admit that he didn’t feel well enough to drive, he could do the same. It was possible that an intense emotion from one of his companions could distract him from the traffic which would be equally dangerous than a zone out. He really had to get a firm handle on his new talents. “What do you suggest? A chauffeur isn’t enough I guess?”

“Get your ducks in a row. The kids had a point, clear up how to best combine your lives. At least work on the basics. Agree about someone you trust to prepare your house or apartment. Our Assistant Director called both your bosses. You are on paid family leave for at least a week, more if you need it. Your team, Agent Gibbs, and both your coworkers have been strongly encouraged to stay away for the duration. ‘Don’t call them, they’ll call you’ if they need something was the phrase they used. Now, I’ll go and search for your shoe-wear before Michael comes back out and bites me.” Sacks made a hasty retreat.

The two remaining adults eyed each other and then the mobile bathroom van.

“The sooner we figure this out, the sooner we’ll go back to normal. We don’t need two residences. I’ve got a house, two stories, and three bedrooms. How many rooms does your apartment have?”

Tony sighed. “It’s a nice apartment, spacious and in a good part of Alexandria. But it has only two bedrooms.”

Gibbs was feeling relieved and his Guide noted grimly, a little bit smug that it seemed as if he we would get his way easily. The NCIS Agent had a deserved reputation of hating change, but Tony didn’t want to give up his home either. The guide massaged his cramping tight and moodily dug his sock clad toes into the cold bare earth.

“That’s a no-brainer Dinozzo. We have to cohabitate, my instincts won’t let me rest and sleep without you near and it’s the same for you in reverse. Bigger house versus smaller apartment and your kid will like my backyard.”

Tony’s eyebrows rose in challenge and Gibbs stopped his sales pitch and then guffawed. “Ok, no, your kid probably won’t.”

“Gibbs…”

Gibbs was feeling suspicious but Tony wouldn’t give in. He remembered the way his Sentinel had rewarded him for helping him find a method to concentrate and got the idea for the perfect attack tactic.

“No. We’re keeping my apartment. It’s fully paid and we need it.” Before Gibbs could open his mouth to complain, Tony pulled him near with a firm tug at his shirt and devoured his partner’s mouth in an open mouthed kiss, as dirty and suggestive as he knew how to. Tony did his best not to get distracted by the delicious interlinked taste of coffee and mate. He had to make this count; his man needed a little reminder. With a last, regretful lick and a little breathy moan Tony pulled back.

“We are going to have sex, often, loud and enthusiastically, that’s the one thing I’m really sure about in this relationship. Don’t tell me you’ll think our bond is platonic, there’s obstinate and then there’s cock tease and after that kiss back in the woods and this one? It better be the former. I can deal with obstinate.”

Gibbs looked startled and then he laughed.

Tony’s eyes sought the blue ones he had dreamed about quite often during the last eight years. It hadn’t been only good dreams, but- “I’m not going to give that up after the appetizers you served me, I want you in every way I can have you. In our bed and in the shower and everywhere else. I don’t mind our kids knowing that we love each other and do the horizontal mambo but anything but vanilla sex behind closed doors won’t happen at your house. Not that vanilla sex is something bad, not all and I guess until your super-vigilance calms down we’ll not let them out of our range unsupervised which means missionary style at night under a blanket me biting the pillow because I’m a screamer and- umpf.”

Tony’s mouth got invaded and thoroughly plundered. Gibbs did a faster but not less messy job than William 1066 at Hastings. Hooray for the Marines! The sole inhabitant of Nation Dinozzo was ready to surrender unconditionally after the first attack and would the invader please conquer everything else too? Regions further south demanded at least equal attention and-

This was neither the time, nor the place. But at least their future sex lives would be good, this proved it without a doubt.

It was fortunate that Gibbs would know the second the kids neared the doors and joined them outside. An advantage to other parents, but Tony would prefer not to look like he had come fresh out of a hot make-out session. Bad precedent and everything, with a real teenager around.

 “Good argument.” Gibbs interrupted Tony’s derailed, groggy mind, horrified with visions of the near future. Tony was accustomed to worrying about what his quirky son would do as soon as teenage hormones joined the fun but now he had a female stepchild to worry about and- ok, that was an efficient way to get rid of his boner.

Someone cleared their throat and they turned their heads in direction of the sound. Sacks had returned with their shoes.

“You four should go back into the SGC van and relax for a bit.”

Isolation from the hustle sounded great and would help refocus them but- There was a but involved that niggled at him and from the way Gibbs was squirming, not on an obvious way just – disgruntled – his partner was ambivalent as well. Tony let his emotions percolate and waited for something that made sense to float to the surface.

Sacks held out a key-ring to them. “Here, go and lick your wounds you have the time until my people have finsihed with the other hostages. The mobile bonding suite is big enough for all four of you. I exchanged everything inside down to the toothbrushes, stocked it with clothes in your sizes and some food. Nobody will invade your privacy again and I’ve got the only other key in case of an emergency.”

Yeah. Their sanctuary wouldn’t be breached anymore. Tony relaxed, took a deep breath and Gibbs took the key ring. Both nodded at their friend, thanked him wordlessly for his thoughtfulness.

TBC 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Fear of green
> 
> **I’ve read something similar in one of Keira Marcos’ fics and adopted it for my own use. All credit goes to her, of course.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some further bits of backstory are revealed. There's a 20k and counting backstory developing in my files. Originally I wanted to do a big flashback chapter but that would overwhelm the main storyflow. Someday, after this is finished, I'll work on it and post it as a prequel.

Some conveniently forgotten empty equipment crates had been commandeered to do double duty as seats while the two men waited for the kids. Gibbs had needed only one pointed glare for Tony to raise his hands in surrender and let the Sentinel do the lugging around. Now Tony was perched on a crate, his back to the metal bonding suit. Fresh, dry socks were on his feet. Socks, the younger man thoughtfully inspected, that were adorned with small, white rabbits and even smaller comic moons. They were of course not originally part of his own wardrobe but had been stuffed into his hands with a stern order to ‘put them on Dinozzo! And give me those useless fancy things.’ Which of course meant his soggy, half cotton, half silk Dolce & Gabbana dress socks. Tony doubted that he would ever see them again.

There were some battles that weren’t worth the headache to fight, this was one of them.

For someone who had been unconscious for a few hours Tony was quite tired and didn’t see any reason why he should put himself and Gibbs through the procedure of putting on his shoes. Half an hour tops and he’d have to get rid of them again if he wanted to get comfortable.

“Why do I get the feeling that integrating my own things into your life will not go smoothly?” Tony asked and watched his Sentinel with half lidded, tired eyes.

“I’m a real pussycat Dinozzo, don’t worry. Kelly is the one who hates it every time something has to be replaced in our house.”

“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” Battling with a fourteen years old girl about carving out a place for Michael and himself was nothing he looked forward to.

Gibbs must have guessed about Tony’s bleak look into the future. “Some of my ex-girlfriends were always trying to redecorate the house in their own taste. Diane wasn’t very diplomatic about it either.”

“Diane? Wasn’t she married to Fornell?”

“Yep. Caught him after I didn’t take the lure.”

Tony sighed.

“Look, do you plan to throw out my wood furniture and replace it with glass and steel crap, paint the living room ecru, whatever that is, and rearrange Kelly’s wardrobe without warning?”

 _Ouch_. Explaining the intricacies of that particular color palette would not serve him well at this moment in time, Tony decided. “I like wood?” the green eyed man hesitantly offered. That wasn’t a lie, as long as the furniture was high quality and not some pressed wood shavings disguised as real wood via ugly casing. Tony hoped for the former, but risking another dismayed glance at Gibbs’ Sears attire made him fear the worst. Cheap or not cheap, press board couldn’t be good for his Sentinels’ nose and it would have to go, pronto. Tony might be forced to take a page out of his second step-mother’s playbook and go for some underhanded maneuvering, banking on Kelly’s wish to make their home better for her father, stroking some Gibbsian egos…

A sudden revelation snuck up on Tony, pounced and made him hide his face in his hands and moan.

“Dinozzo? What?” Gibbs patience was wearing thin, he’d reverted to single word sentences.

“It’s like a Regency Novel adaption, Sentinel and Guide edition. Young, handsome Guide with his son, entering an arranged marriage of convenience and-“ Tony paused in his ramble and peeked through his fingers. Oh dear, Gibbs looked gob smacked, and why was Tony’s mouth again spilling words? “Brother would be better, weren’t all Victorian Guides supposed to be virgins until they bonded with their Sentinels? Have you seen Pride and Prejudice, the 1985 version isn’t bad, but I prefer Laurence Olivier to Matthew Macfadyen as Mr. Darcy, much more fitting casting for a Sentinel. Honestly, the scenery was gorgeous but the camera angles were sub-par. Joe Write had to be drunk when he didn’t cut out that one scene, the one with the cart, it totally ruined-“

Instead of the verbal smack-down Tony had expected Gibbs gently pulled his Guides’ hands away from his face and used a finger under his chin to carefully close Tony’s mouth. “You’re no blushing virgin Tony, thank God. Do you always let your mouth run free- hm, more freely when you are tired and nervous?”

“Sometimes. Blair said something about it.” His mind was jumping from one thing to the next, worse than unusual, and it was so bad that it got Tony dizzy. His mentor had warned him about not attempting to concentrate too much on anything beside his Sentinel, called it a natural defense mechanism of his brain.

“The soul of silence you aren’t. My ears are still ringing with the ranting fits you drove that Captain in Baltimore to, but this is extreme.”

The sound of metal clanging against metal made both men clamp down on their frustration and compose themselves to present a calm front for their children. The first kid to reappear was Kelly. Her hair was wet, not appropriate for the chilly November evening air at all. Before one of the adults could chastise her she was banging already on the neighbor bathroom door.

“Michael, you finished? The hairdryer over here just died. Gimme yours!” she hollered, very unladylike.

Another clang, a very naked, very pale arm was stuck out and offered a hairdryer which had been state of the art, sometimes back in the seventies. Michael’s voice facelessly echoed from within the unit. “You killed it? I won’t share my Xbox if you do that to tech thingies.”

“Thanks, squirt! Hey, I’ve got my own console! With titles you’re not allowed to touch, ever!”

“Like I’d want to play Barbie fashion show.” Michael retorted, closed his door before his opponent recuperated.

“I don’t play- I, I…; Barbie?!?” Her voice climbed high, up to opera soprano dimensions and not only Gibbs winced.

“Barbie, hah. As if. He’s never getting his little paws on Halo, neither part.” Kelly hissed and swung the hairdryer like a bat. ”Dad! You better get along with your Guide, the bed in the guestroom is too small for two. No way , no how I’m gonna share my room with that little monster!”

“Yep, you are repeating yourself; you’ve made your stance on that very clear.” Gibbs, well trained by his daughter and girlfriends knew better than to get in the middle of that particular melee. “Now, deal with your hair before you catch a cold.”

“They are half dry already. If he annoys you,” Kelly pointed the hairdryer like an impromptu gun at Tony, clarifying who she was talking about, “we can shove them both in the attic. Before or after renovations, you decide, dad.“

“Looks like you’re already treating Michael like a sibling; bickering like that. Banishing family members into small dirty spaces is wrong. I distinctly remember long rants about Dussies? Now, scram!”

“Dursleys!” Kelly corrected but dutifully followed the order.

Tony waited until he could be sure young ears wouldn’t overhear him, then he let loose and laughed. “Now way you’ve forgotten that name! For shame, playing dumb like that. Long tirades about abusive fictional characters have to be a Gibbs family tradition.”

Gibbs raised an eyebrow and looked like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth, the smug bastard.

The second book of the Harry Potter series had hit the stores and was ever present. Baltimore was no exempt from the little wizards’ march to glory and fame. It seemed as if there was not one kid’s bookcase that wasn’t proudly housing at least the first of little Harry’s adventures into the world of magic. Cupboards, under stairs and otherwise, weren’t scary anymore but suddenly cool hiding places. Sadly it was, just like in the story, not safe for children to be caught in the crossfire of the adults’ deadly messes. Not only little boys named Harry knew and that wanting to be invisible could transform an ordinary storage space into a sanctuary.

Eight years ago the name hadn’t been Harry Potter but Derek Burton.

Internship as an observer was a requirement for criminal psychology and Tony had was in the middle of his turn at haunting the vice department at the Baltimore police station. Gibbs blew into the precinct like a storm and left irritation in his wake. His smug, silent determination commanded the attention of everyone. The feeling he had provoked in the local detectives was Goosebumps-raising, downright unease, from the way they watched him. Which was only funny in hindsight because when the grey haired, scruffy looking man had been led into the bull pen for the first time? Gibbs was in handcuffs and a suspect; bound; harmless.

Tony was standing in the back of the room, near the coffee machine, one freshly refilled cup half to his lips, and his eyes were riveted on Danny’s attempt at intimidating his captive by way of smug posturing.

Nobody paid attention to an intern. In the esteem of the real, hard-working cops he ranged between indentured servant and untrained puppy; something that was to be used and might be indulged when the mood struck but ultimately interns were beneath their notice. Detective Danny Soprano, Tony’s mentor, was no exception and his dismissive attitude towards the ‘crippled newbie shrink’ firmly relegated the student to the role of unwelcome observer. It was like listening to one of Wendy’s compositions, Tony mused, when it was played by someone who deliberately mocked the audience by using a key half a note too high. LEOs and freshly caught scumbag acted according to their assigned roles but-. The student tilted his head to the side.

When it slotted into place, did Tony do the sensible thing and discreetly wave Danny aside to tell him his suspicions? No, of course not.  For a change the whole bull pen was the butt of the joke and Tony loudly and delightedly blurted out what he’d figured out.

“Damn, you wanted to get arrested! The second perp rabbited, he’s gonna tattle to the other rats that you’re genuine. You needed to get snatched, necessary for your own op, some instant street cred.”

“Dinozzo!” Danny threw his hands in the air. “No way, I caught him fair and square. You are a pain in the ass!”

Intelligent blue eyes had met wide green ones across the noisy room. Then, well. Hook, line, sinker.

The case progressed, leads were followed, arguments flew and tempers flared all around when the uppity Fed preferred to work with Tony because he’d been the only competent member of the squad. Tony had the time of his life until their main suspect killed his girlfriend and then himself because she told on him.

They had found the bodies first and without Gibbs’ superior hearing nobody would have known that there was a survivor still hiding in the kitchen, behind the sink. The adults had congregated outside the cupboard they had found him in, a sympathetic but helpless human wall between the unresponsive little boy and the bloody remains of his young life.

Tony’s heart had hurt when he witnessed the big gruff former marine scrutinizing the sole bookcase in the small apartment, selecting a colorful tome and then calmly sitting down on the floor and reading aloud, changed voices and sound effects inclusive, until the traumatized boy had calmed down and crawled out of his hidey hole.

Social Services had taken the boy. On the way back to the police station Gibbs had delivered a short, terse and vicious rant about people who treated kids like inconveniences and how the Dursleys were in no way comic relief.

The rest was like a fairy tale but without the happily ever after. No riding off into the sunset, villain bound and defeated in backseat and the future bright. Instead there were two body bags, NCIS agent and graduate student not talking to each other and a twelve year old boy who would never forget that he was there when his mom died in the next room.

Half an hour alter and all goodwill and soft heartedness had been destroyed by a few coldly delivered sentences.

Tony came back to the present and his son, freshly showered and fearless, bounced over. Tony had been so caught in his memories that he had missed both kids’ return.

“Gosh dad, you seriously forgot to call mom?” Appalled admiration for Tony’s daring shone from his sons’ eyes. Kelly sniggered and disappeared inside their temporary home.

Calling Wendy? Oh shit. That not so insignificant duty had managed to evade him. “She’s on the line? Now?”

“The technology snatchers gave back my stuff, I found everything in my back bag. 27 missed calls. Of course I called my mom back.”

Even Gibbs was appalled and looked at Tony with pity in his eyes.

“She told me to switch to speaker and give you my cell. And then hide ‘cause I’m not supposed to hear you use swear words. Which is stupid, daytime TV uses worse than PG-13 vocabulary.”

“Daytime-TV will rot your brain.”

“Take it like a man daddy.” The boy put the active and blinking cell phone in Tony’s hands, fled the battlefield and hid inside the bonding suite.

“Is Michael out of hearing range?” the tiny speakers managed to be precise enough to convey the iron restraint being executed by the woman on the other end of the line.

“Yes, he’s in another… room.” Tony’s brain drew a blank when he tried to find appropriate words and he began to feel a little woozy. The firm grip on his shoulders was nice and steadying.

„Anthony, would you please explain why Blair Sandburg phoned me? The Alpha Guide Prime of North America had me called out of my morning seminar. To tell me that my son has been _kidnapped_. Days ago, and since then he’s been rescued. Which I knew nothing about. What can be possibly wrong with _that_ picture?” Wendy had an unusual dark and smoky voice and due to her music education she had learned how to use her voice chords like a weapon without the need to shout.

“Wendy-girl, uhm.”

“No good excuse? You’re a very lucky man, the charming doctor explained why your brain is scrambled at the moment or I would have strung you up by the balls the minute I’m back from Australia. We will have a long talk, make no mistake. Which leads me to another… issue. That Navy cop, your not so new Sentinel is with you and listening?”

Tony sighed and faced the unavoidable. “Jethro Gibbs, meet Gwendolyn Townsend, Michael’s mother.”

“Madam.” Gibbs really had good instincts; his response was measured and neutral.

“A _pleasure_. If I said what I want we’d be here for hours and since you both are, how did Dr. Sandburgh put it, ah yes: fragile and emotionally vulnerable, I’ll put it off. Tony sounds beat. I’m tempted to take the next flight out but there’s not even a scratch on Michael, he sounds reasonably calm, and you need the time to bond without interference.”

Every little quoted Sandburghian wisdom hit with precision of a scalpel and the force of a sledgehammer. Tony winced. He didn’t begrudge her the fury she must feel, if he was in her shoes, he would be out for blood.

“Ms. Townsend, with all due respect, back up. Dinozzo is under a lot of stress and you are not helping.” Gibbs tightened his grip on his Guide’s shoulder and plastered the younger man to the warmth of his side.

“Who’d have thought, you do have protective bones in your body, Mr. Navy Cop.” Wendy purred. Instead of being insulted and upping the ante she sounded delighted. “I know that Anthony would never deliberately exclude me from the life of my son. Extenuating circumstances apply; I didn’t call to chew him out. I wanted to talk to you instead, Sentinel Gibbs, to thank you.”

All that sweetness barely covered up the sharp claws hiding underneath and Tony tried to convey a warning for Gibbs with his eyes.

“No need. Would have done my best for kids anyway.” Gibbs deflected.

“I certainly hope so, but you’re mistaken. I’m thankful that you’re a completely heartless fucking asshole.” Wendy calmly retorted.

The two men stared at the cellphone, their mouths open in shock.

“When you ran away from Baltimore you left a mess behind. Anthony was so angry and devastated that he drank himself into oblivion and you know- no, you didn’t take the time to know him well enough, do you? Know that he _never_ drinks to excess.”

“Wendy, please.“ Tony tried to interfere, more for his own dignities sake than to spare Gibbs but his resolute best friend wouldn’t be deterred.

“Macallan fine oak 18, do I need to say more sweetheart?”

Tony winced. That particular bottle had burned a big hole in his budget.

“Now, since I’m his best friend it was my sacred duty to help him drown his sorrows without letting him drown for real. One thing lead to the next. Eight and a half months later Michael was born and a greater gift isn’t possible. So, thank you.”

Gibbs didn’t say anything but he emoted frustration and hurt like a furnace.

“Wendy, my dearest white knight in Viviane Westwood armor, please shut up or I’ll die of embarrassment. You are making him tense up and that isn’t helping my headache.”

“It’s my duty to deliver the shovel talk. I don't care if he's your Sentinel, if he repeats his mistake I will find a way to drop my old piano on his Marine head. Capisce, Sentinel Gibbs?”

“I don’t plan to mistreat Dinozzo!” Gibbs pressed out between his teeth and glared at the innocent phone.

Wendy had said her part, hopefully. Tony squirmed and could feel the heat in his cheeks. It was nice that someone cared about him so much that they were ready to pick a fight.

Hurt indignity and a good part of self-loathing thrummed through their bond and Tony knew that Gibbs would snarl at the next outside interference.

“You’d risk your piano? You do love me.” The Guide coaxed his friend to safer shores. “If you’re ready to smash your old instrument on Gibbs hard head I guess you were successful in teasing that beautiful Steinway away from Logan?”

“Yep, and tomorrow I’m going to have my new baby delivered home!”

“Best go and oversee the packers, not that they scratch the finish.” Of course his friend would only allow experienced professionals to handle her new treasure but nobody could expect his dear music fairy to be reasonable when dangers like a long plane loomed on the horizon.

“My baby is absolutely stunning. A shame that someone like Logan managed to acquire it in the first place, he doesn’t even play, dilettante wanted it as a status symbol. But you’re not interested in that at the moment. Go to bed, you’re exhausted and Michael said that you didn’t take care of yourself properly. We’ll talk again.”

They exchanged a few teasing phrases and then a peep announced that the conversation had ended.

“Wendy means well.”

“She deeply loves you and Michael, I could hear it clearly. Why does she call you Anthony?”

“Wendy never called my anything else, she doesn’t like Tony.” She had met the ‘real Tony Dinozzo’ and senior earned himself a permanent place in hell beside Justin Bieber. “She’s not a rival.”

“I heard that as well.” Gibbs had maintained their closeness and even began to massage the younger man’s shoulder to help dissipate the tension. “I’m on her shit list and she’s got my number, I’ve been a complete bastard and I’m not proud about it. I waited until we closed the case, led my silence give you the wrong impression so nothing would distract me from the hunt and then rejected you as my Guide.”

Tony chuckled without humor. “I knew that it was a long shot, I’m nobody’s idea of the ideal Guide. My leg, my attitude, me being myself. Now we are bonded, out of situational necessity.”

“It was never about your handicap Tony, it was only a soft target. If it hadn’t been the leg I would have found something else. Your lack of field readiness, hell the age gap would have been enough for me in a pinch. I would have blown it out of proportion and then ran away. Make a clean break by burning my bridges, if I made it impossible for you to forgive me I wouldn’t be tempted to crawl back.

“Full marks for the execution of that master plan.” Tony rubbed his eyes. “Something is different now, though. You’ll tell me someday what had you tied in knots in the past?”

“Kelly, someone attacked her only weeks before I’ve found you in Baltimore. I was on a no vulnerability tear for the next months.” Gibbs climbed to his feet and helped Tony up as well. “No matter what Blair says, my Mama Bear shit isn’t an excuse. Animals are driven by instincts; decent human beings should master theirs.”

Tony didn’t know what to say to that. He couldn’t honestly say that everything was forgotten and forgiven. Finally he sighed “Yeah. We’re the most complicated, self-destructive beings and should know better. We’ll deal Gibbs. I made mistakes too.”

Tony was about to follow the kids and  heave himself up the stairs when Gibbs held him back with a firm grip on his Guide’s left upper arm.

“Is Michael a latent Sentinel?”

“I never had him tested, he’s not ten years old yet. Why do you ask?” Tony let himself be helped up and used the higher ground to observe his mate. Gibbs was still a master at repression.

Inside the kids were inspecting the van and were quite vocal about everything they thought was strange about it. Exclamations about the big bed and the ‘funky’ windowless room spilled outside.

“The way he complained about how strong everything smelled to him and his sensitivity to dirt on his skin?”  Gibbs kept his voice low.

“Would you be upset if he turned out to be a fellow Sentinel?” Tony worried and kept a tight focus on his Sentinel’s empathic landscape. His radar wasn’t reliable yet.

Gibbs looked and felt a little hurt. “No, I wouldn’t mind. I just don’t want him to come online so young it could damage him, but we would deal.”

“He might be one, it runs in my family but Guide or mundane aren’t off the table as options either. My own sense of smell is above average; my hearing is very good too. When I was young everyone thought I’d manifest as a Sentinel, like my grandfather. Dad wasn’t happy at all when I came online as a guide instead.” Tony smiled sardonically.

“Your father is an ass.” Gibbs grumbled.

Tony shook his head. Well, Wendy and Gibbs would have their dislike for senior in common to bond over when they met the next time.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I uploaded the wrong version and didn't realise it at first, I'm sorry.

After a hearty ‘indoor picnic’, Michael’s pleased observation, the mismatched little group of four separated into parent and child for some much needed one on ones. The trailer might be bigger than the commercially available models, if your name wasn’t Hugh Heffner, but there wasn’t much privacy to be had, they did their best to pretend that they were alone.

Tony was sure that there wasn’t a parent on earth more proud than him. Well, maybe Gibbs but the green eyed man would never admit it and it had to be equally proud, thank you. But even little heroes needed time to decompress. Michael had been full of manic energy during the meal, had been waving his hands around to illustrate some of his tales. Tales, which had been about anything and everything except his time in the hands of criminals.

Kelly hadn’t been in a sharing mood either. Whenever she could get a word in and a place in the spotlight she instead described her house and the garden. She playfully teased her new young housemate about the big backyard and that he would have to share her duties tending to the plants, which made Michael giggle, especially when the girl warned him about the evil ways of the nettles that invaded her rose beds.

“I tell you, they’re enemy plant infiltrators. If you don’t catch them when they appear they take root and develop weapons! Spears and poison which stings!” she nodded, deeply earnest expression on her pixie face.

From the length she described with her fingers those really had to be impressive needles.

Michael wrinkled his nose. “You’re winding me up.”

“Nope, I’m not! Dad warned me about them. At length! And he has to know all about them; he would never lie to me. Dad, isn’t that true?”

Gibbs smiled and took a hearty bite out of his sandwich.

“Nope, not believing it!” Michael sing-songed and then both kids giggled.

The two men left them to their banter and only interfered whenever the conversation threatened to cross the line into too silly or too serious.

After everyone was sated they collected the remains of their meal.

The silence after all that noise and activity, Michael simply pressing himself against his father with his face half hidden in the adult’s shoulder. The tableau served as an additional reminder to the times, years ago when Michael was small, when he would go from active to restive like someone hit a switch.

“Daddy?” was mumbled into Tony’s shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“Everything will change now, yeah?”

Tony stroked the soft hair. “Not everything.”

“More new people, ‘nother house. Do I have to change school?” The last was added to the list with the most emotion behind it.

“If you want? Gibbs’ house isn’t too far away from our apartment, we could manage.”

“Benny, Elisabeth and Jim are in my class at my current school. And they’re part of the Scout group as well.” He made a vague gesture.” I never want to see any of them again. Ever.”

Disassociation with people and things connecting Michael to the traumatic event wasn’t the healthiest method to deal with it. Not the worst either. Tony hesitated and chomped down on his first reaction which would be to point that out. “Why?” he dug deeper.

“They’re gonna ask questions. Lots and lots of stupid questions. Why I wasn’t with them in the big tent, why Agent Fornell talked to us, singled us out. You know, stupid things, nosy pokes.”

“You could tell them what happened.”

Michael snuggled in more insistently, like he wanted to climb under Tony’s clothes to hide. The little boy shook his head emphatically. “Don’t wanna.” He repeated. “I’d feel safer with Kelly.”

It was like a punch to the gut. No seven years old kid should feel unsafe at his school or suspicious of other pupils on principle. Cautious was good, was fine; It but- Tony clenched his teeth. “She’s older, in another year than you. You won’t spend a lot of time with her.”

Another pronounced headshake and silence. When he got like this there was no reasoning with him. Tony waited and patiently cuddled Michael.

“I’d always be the smart little kid that, you know,  _did_  something.” Green eyes so like his own peeked up to him through long lashes.

“You did great.” But Tony understood, standing out for the wrong reasons was no fun.

“They’re all older than me, bigger, and didn’t do anything and Miss Judy-“ Frustration poured from the child. “They won’t like it. No, I don’t want to see them again.”

“What about your friends?” Michael didn’t have many friends, the age gap had proven to be hard to overcome, but Tony hadn’t joked when he’d told Gibbs that his son tended to never let go of people he liked. He still exchanged cute little letters with his best bud from Kindergarten, for heaven’s sake!

Another stubborn shake of the little head made Tony sigh and rub the tense back. “We’ll wait the week, hm? Then, if you’re still adamant about changing we’ll find a way. If there’s no space at Kelly’s school we’ll find something else.”

“Okay. So…”

“Yes?” Tony encouraged.

“He’s really our Sentinel?”

Tony choked on air and had to clear his throat before he could speak again. “ _Our_  Sentinel?”

Michael looked at his father as if he was slow on the uptake. “Dhu. If he’s yours that means we adopt him, that makes him mine too, doesn’t it? The brochures say so.”

“Brochures.”

“Yep. Though, they’re pretty silly ones, with stick figure comics.” Michael shuddered. “Stick figures doing things to each other. Our class teacher handed them out last term.”

Stick figure comics. If they were as bad as the ones used for sex-ed Tony didn’t have to wonder about the kid’s irritation. “Things to each other?”

“One of the panels had Guides with waves around their head like Professor Xavier and the Sentinel figures had big ears, eyes and noses in  _purple_. And they were melted to each other! Uhm, Dad? Have I broken you or something?”

 

“No, I’m wondering how well that would illustrate Sentinel-Guide dynamics, that’s all.” The educational system tended to water down completely natural behavior, then pour it into illustrations in the vaguest possible way and  _then_  they were astonished when the students got it wrong. It was a weird game of operator with knowledge instead of words.

“They leave out a lot, that’s the problem! I had to share what I know with the other kids in recess. Ms. Williams wasn’t happy she said she’ll talk to you- after this weekend, in fact.”

Yep, he’d guessed right. Tony moaned. Just like sex-ed the government in its infinite wisdom had decided that there should be a regulated education about Sentinels and Guides, ideally a year before they were tested for the genetic markers. His son wasn’t the right age but since he had skipped grades his classmates were and thus he’d had to sit through the lectures as well.

Sentinels and Guides were rare, only one in a thousand had the marker and not everyone who inherited those would come online. Tony supposed it was like with everything special, it simply fascinated people: Everyday heroes that could crop up in their own family and neighborhood.

They were small in numbers but omnipresent in the mind of the public. Ever since Sentinel Harold Jenkins had gone public in 1973 in order to be believed about the undersea earthquake about to hit Hawaii the phenomenon was a point of public fascination and speculation. After the dust had settled nobody had been too surprised that it had been an open secret in certain government departments but now  _everyone_  knew about it. People who could listen in on any conversation, who would be able to sniff out who the husband, director, stranger on the street or senator had slept with during his lunch break, among other secrets, the implications were hard to stomach.

It was a good thing that the spin doctors had made sure to paint them as inherently good or there would have been a lynch mob instead of a fan base.

His father’s guide status was no secret to Michael. They had talked about it at length because the boy had been fascinated that his dad was one of the  _special people_. Tony had told him about the theory behind the genetic quirk, because his son was like a bloodhound if he wanted to know something and never shy to ask questions, not that Tony discouraged him. If the adult knew the answer, no matter how inconvenient or embarrassing it may be, his son got it. Kid friendly versions were certainly applied and sometimes the circumstances demanded delay. The first time a nurse had put the tiny, ugly little miracle into his arms he had sworn that this child would never learn that later was just another word for never.

“Ms. Williams will read me the riot act. Again. Your class advisor is never happy with us two, is she? You’re not just inventing that so we have another reason to avoid your current school?” Tony teased.

“No, nothing but the truth!” Michael smiled. It got dimmer when his gaze turned to the other side of the room.

“Kelly says he’s cool.”

Tony smirked. It was reassuring that for Michael girls were still firmly in the icky category, or Tony would have to be concerned about something more serious than a little hero worship.

“The folders insist that a bond is forever, you said so too. It’s important that we’ve caught us a cool one and not some douchebag.” His son insisted earnestly. He appeared to be much calmer now and his eyelids were heavy.

“True.” Tony kissed him on the forehead.

“Eek, Dad!”

The mental image of catching Gibbs like an elusive exotic pet was hilarious. “Language, squirt!” Well, the Sentinel had a sense of humor because of course Gibbs’ sensitive ears had caught that gem and the guide’s own amusement was doubled back by his partner’s.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Both children were exhausted and ready for bed, even the older Kelly. She might not want to admit it openly but the shadows under her eyes and the yawns she tried to hide told their own story. Only when her father grumbled about being beat and not able to go to sleep if everyone else kept wriggling around, did the girl give in and curl up under a mountain of blankets.

The bed was big enough for all four; no one had voiced any complaints. From the way both kids interrupted their conversations during the evening to look around and reassure themselves that their parents hadn’t spontaneously disappeared, everyone was glad about the forced nearness instead.

The yawns hadn’t been exaggeration to soothe teenaged pride, both adults were bone tired as well but for them the day wasn’t finished yet. If they wanted to go home tomorrow they had to make some calls.

Tony sighed and rubbed his hands over his scalp. They needed to show that they had their newly combined lives on track if they wanted their benevolent jailers to release them soon. First on the list was a prepared home and the easiest way would be to send Pete and Nathan and have them arrange everything.

“Ok. I guess our bond is still too raw and new to make you accept the scent of strangers in your home?” He didn’t even need a verbal response, Gibbs’ displeasure was clear to read on his face and the expression got darker by the second.

“Hey, that’s no big problem. We can decide later which furniture to ship to which home. My kid’s furniture and enough clothes for a few days are the most urgent.”

Gibbs glared at his own hands. “Not pissed at you or the kid, Dinozzo. Fucking Sentinel shit.”

Tony sighed softly. Yeah, that showed that just because he could read an emotion didn’t mean that he always knew what it was directed at. A mind reader he was not. Tony waited for more but when Gibbs didn’t elaborate the Guide decided to leave it alone for now.

“Let’s just figure out how to get everything started. Rome wasn’t built in a day either, eh?”

“Yeah.” Gibbs relaxed a little bit. “Your kid is very accepting.” He took up the strand of their earlier conversation.

And thank God for small mercies. No matter how unsettling his improved empathy was for Tony and how imprecise it could be, at the moment it made it easier to read his mate and Tony didn’t have to doubt that Gibbs genuinely liked his new step son. A few days more and a little more exposure to each other and Michael would be firmly entrenched in the gruff man’s heart.

“Yeah. I want him to feel welcome. He’s not going to feel insecure about his place in the family. Which means the guest room should be transformed into  _his_ room as soon as possible.”

“That’s a no brainer Dinozzo. Room needs a new coat of paint though. Never used it much, it’s been more of a storage room. Michael should choose the wall color.”

Simply exchanging the content of the unused room with the one in his apartment was out then for practical reasons. Arranging furniture just to shove it around again two days later so no paint would get on everything? Nope. “Let’s give Kelly the option of a make-over for her own room too. Just because we are moving in with you two and not the other way around shouldn’t leave her out of the fun. If nothing else this will keep us occupied during the week.”

“Doubt that we’ll get bored.” Gibbs grumbled.

“I’ll send some e-mails to Pete and Nathan, ask them to pack some essentials. They can meet with your friend and hand them over.” Tony decided and moved to the side of the van where he had spotted a small office corner. Which was a fancy way of describing a board with a laptop on top that could be pulled out of the wall unit to serve as a table with the edge of the bed as the chair. He sat down and opened the lid. It was a standard government issued device. “Please tell me you’ve got someone for the task? I’ll need their contact information.”

“I have to call him first.” Gibbs left the inner room and Tony could hear him rummage through something in the small anteroom.

Composing two similar, short and mostly informative messages took more time than a few sentences should.  _I’ve got emergency bonded to that guy I told you about, remember? Now I need you to run some errands for me_ simply wouldn’t fit the bill _._  Tony erased the words and began anew.

Gibbs returned. “Can you get the video call thingy working?”

“I saw the icon for the program, so, yes I can. I’m not a technophobe like someone I could name.” Tony answered absentmindedly; he was struggling with the last bit of his message, then thought, to hell with it and left it as it was.

The bed dipped and Gibbs shoved his cell phone on the keyboard, the display lit up with a message. Tony shrugged his shoulders and got to work. He even remembered to plug in the little mic. Not even three minutes later a melodic peep on low volume alerted them that their conversation partner was waiting. Tony tried to turn the laptop in Gibbs’ direction but it was turned back and his mate pressed in so they both faced the eye of the little camera embedded in the screen part of the machine.

Whatever Tony had expected, an older man with glasses and in green scrubs had been not on the list. In the background he could see a tiled wall and white cabinets.

“Why did you refuse to answer my call, Duck? You know I hate these” Gibbs complained and waved his hands at the screen. “I thought you’d be here at the camp by now.”

“This is the next best thing instead of a personal visit. I know you well enough to distrust your assurances that you are fine without visual proof.” The man rightened the wire framed glasses on his nose. „I fear that I’ve been unavoidably detained. Agent Balboa has caught a case with four murder victims and Mr. Palmer is overwhelmed and not yet up to the task of dealing with them on his own. Now, Jethro, don’t look that grim, I will do my best to assist you from afar, which is why I asked Agent Sacks to facilitate means of conversation.” The kindly older man’s smile never wavered, no matter how unhappy the team leader looked. He blinked a little owlishly which was in contrast to the sharpness of his gaze when it focused on the stranger lurking behind Gibbs’ shoulder.

“Since Jethro is busy with his sulking I’m going to introduce myself. I’m Donald Mallard but everyone calls me Ducky and you must be Anthony Dinozzo, Jethro’s Guide?”

Tony hesitated but did his best to keep his smile open and friendly. Something in the gentle approach made him nervously reach for his own best manners. Gibbs had to trust and like Mallard if asked him to come here, so he was important to his Sentinel. “It is a pleasure to meet you Dr. Mallard. I’m Anthony yes, but we’ll be seeing each other a lot, I guess, so please call me Tony. If you want to.” Even if the English gentleman had mentioned his nickname it didn’t mean that he would welcome it from Tony.

“The pleasure is all mine and please call me Ducky. I’m the Medical Examiner for Jethro’s team at NCIS and, what is more important, his friend and personal physician. The circumstances might have been less than ideal but I can’t tell you how happy I was to hear that he has found his mate.” Ducky beamed at Tony.

“We all despaired that Jethro’s recalcitrant nature would prevent him from finding someone and I feared for his health if he went unbonded for much longer.

“Been doing fine Duck!” Gibbs protested.

“You may delude yourself, dear boy, but I have seen how keeping an iron grip on your senses has strained your overall constitution.”

A fast peek at Gibbs profile made Tony grin broadly. His Sentinel didn’t like being called delicate.

“A bullet hole is not just a scrape, no matter what you say. And a dislocated shoulder isn’t a simple bruise!” the doctor admonished.

“Only a flesh wound, eh?” Tony couldn’t resist quoting, even imitating the accent of John Cleese.

Ducky chuckled. “Yes, indeed. But Jethro doesn’t have the excuse of being a fan of Monty Python.”

Gibbs snorted, his breath tickling his Guide’s cheek.

“I see only a few of the scrapes you habitually tend to collect and they look like they will heal. Though your color is off, which is no surprise after being dosed with Etorphin. Bernice, Dr. Nakamura, assured me that you are reasonably healthy, despite being forcibly sedated.” The blue eyes behind the glasses narrowed. “I had some choice words for her, dosing you like that without consulting with me first, rest assured.  Not that I condone their actions, I would never have agreed if them if they had asked for possible adverse reactions! What if one of you had an adverse reaction? Their unethical methods could have damaged you and it will have consequences.”

Dr. Mallard took a deep breath and calmed himself down. “Kelly is in good health as well?”

“Since you don’t trust my word-“ With a move that would give any computer technician palpitations Gibbs deftly grabbed the laptop by the screen, lifted it high and tilted it towards the sleeping children behind the seated adults.

Tony turned halfway around and echoed the cooing sounds that emitted from the speakers. Red curls lay tangled over a pillow and Kelly was on her back, softly snoring. The blanket she had wrapped around herself had slipped down and pooled around her middle and the legs, her arms were spread wide. In contrast to her stretched out body Michael resembled a human snail deep within its fabric shell blanket and he used the girl’s feet as his pillow.

“It’s sights like these that give me the vigor to go to work in the morning.” Ducky said. “Now, put the laptop down again, please, you are giving me vertigo. And then we shouldn’t prattle on for long, you should get some rest as well. There are some errands I might help you with?”

“Yes, that would be great! May I give your contact information to some friends of mine, Peter Dawning and Nathan McLeod?”

“What a fine Scottish name! I will be delighted to coordinate with your friends. Don’t you worry about anything and try to get some rest. You will need every bit of energy to keep your partner out of trouble, I fear. By the way, Jethro?”

“What now?” Gibbs asked.

“The director has volunteered herself to oversee restocking and altering your house to fit your new situation.”

The shoulder muscles under Tony’s hand tensed.

“Which is of course very kind of her, but I managed to dissuade her with the help of Dr. Sandburgh. Her presence, while well intentioned, was not what we thought would benefit you completing your nesting period in peace. We argued that your new bond might react aversely to the presence of an unbonded Guide within your home.

The two friends shared an understanding sigh via the internet that made Tony’s eyebrow rise questioningly.

“Very diplomatic of you Duck.” Gibbs said approvingly.

Dr. Mallard graciously inclined his head.

Tony had been around other unbonded Guides the last few days and while Palfred had rubbed him the wrong way, she had earned his ire honestly and would have done so if she hadn’t been a Guide at all. Phelps on the other hand he had liked just fine. That made it 50:50. So why were both men sure that this Director would annoy him? And furthermore, since when where Directors of Federal Agencies eager to play housekeeper for their agents? Assistant Director Whittemore would send anyone to psych evaluation for assuming she’s do it.

“Why do I get the distinct impression that I will not like your boss, Gibbs?” Tony mused aloud.

Dr. Mallard coughed discreetly. “I wouldn’t want to influence your own opinion before meeting Madam Director yourself, Anthony.”

 _Yeah, sure._  “Uhu.”

“Ignore her. I always do.” Was his mate’s succinct recommendation.

“Which is a good part of why she acts the way she does Jethro!”

“Ex-girlfriend?” Tony took a hit in the not so dark.

“No.” The hard lines around Gibbs’ mouth didn’t invite further poking.

“Ah, yes, let’s move on to- hm, I fear, other female trouble.” The ME diverted the attention of the pair.

Gibbs groaned. “Abs?”

“Quite. Our dear girl took the order to stay away very hard. She wanted to see for herself that Kelly and you have survived your adventure unscathed. I would advise you to at least call Abigail tomorrow unless you want her to get creative.”

All those unfamiliar people and interpersonal histories were resurrecting Tony’s earlier, half delusional musings about arranged marriages. He was certainly confronted with lots of people he’d never seen before but who were now part of his new family, step daughter, interfering employers slash maybe exes, other mysterious female figures, and, if he wasn’t very mistaken, a benevolently scary father in law.

The exchanged a few more pleasantries, mostly Ducky and Tony and hashed out a rough timeline of what had to be put where and what had to be freshly cleaned in deference to the new Sentinel’s needs, again mostly according to the two doctors with only sparing input from Gibbs. After friendly good nights Tony leaned against his mate and exhaled.

Half an hour later he was securely huddled under the blankets. “Was that your version of meeting the in-laws?” Tony mused half asleep.

“Shut your eyes!”

 TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sedative used for big game. I suppose they altered it for Sentinels.
> 
> Next part will play in DC. This story might not have the most exciting plot but after nearly tearing my hairs out and shuffling things around I decided to write what I myself would want to read and not worry about balanced action-conversation ratios.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry, but a chest cold, combined with my severe allergies developed into pneumonia. For more than a month I felt more like a barely sentient, wobbling slimeball rather than a human - which skirts the edges of too much information, eh? Gasping for air isn’t conductive to creativity, thus the delay. Then my laptop died. With all my notes, 5 nearly finished chapters and chapter snippets- well. And guess who forgot what backups are for?
> 
> I haven't taken the time to answer to the reviews yet and that's on me. I always got a bad conscience when I saw one arriving in my inbox and thought that the best appology for those that have waited would be to work on the update. Maybe this time RL will let me add chapters in a reasonable timeframe.

Ron had been correct when he told them to retreat last night but Tony wished that they’ve insisted on driving back to DC instead. Granted, Gibbs, the kids and himself had needed the rest and Tony honestly couldn’t remember a night where he had slept more peacefully, but from the moment he had opened his eyes and he was immediately bombarded with the discomfort of everyone around him in the bed.

Gibbs and Tony had gravitated to each other in their sleep. The night before, after preparing for bed, sleeping arrangements had come up. Their interaction couldn’t be called a debate, that was much too communicative a word for Gibbs. Tony tried to claim the outer edge of the bed which restricted the choice to one spot because three sides touched the walls and one served as the foot-end and was free standing.

_Climbing across a sleeping body because nature called, in the dark, with a bum leg? Without maiming or waking up the obstacle? Bad idea Gibbs!_

The older man had snorted, ignored the nice logical arguments, carefully pushed Tony further back into the nest and then transformed into the definition of the immovable object. Tony had flopped down, rolled his eyes and had called his partner an overprotective Neanderthal. But while they had started out with not touching each other, Tony woke up with his back pressed to Gibbs’ and his arms and legs bracketing Michael and Kelly protectively.

No windows made it hard to guess the time but Tony’s empty stomach strongly suggested that it must be early morning. Kids with their natural talent for bouncing back needed less sleep than adults, so it wasn’t a complete surprise that Michael and Kelly had woken up before Tony. Gibbs could have been awake for a good while too, Tony guessed. A former Marine was probably proud of being a masochist and was delighted with greeting the new day at an ungodly early hour, like five o’clock. Miraculously all three of the early birds had stayed silent until Tony had woken up.

The adrenalin that had partially overridden his nesting drive during their rescue mission had left his system during the previous night and now his instincts screamed at him to barricade his core tribe inside a safe place until everyone’s aura felt right again. Currently none of them were emotionally stable. The minute they left their sanctuary Tony’s aggravation grew. Keeping up appearances for stupid people that didn’t get that they wanted to be alone aggravated an already bad situation and that just wouldn’t do.

Controlled chaos reigned while four people simultaniously tried to find their bags, fresh clothes to change into and room to do it. Kelly went to the outer chamber while the 'boys' helped each other into their clothes. Conversation was nealry non-existant thanks to the lack of coffee for Gibbs, no tea (or yoga) for Tony and Michael run true to his nature, which meant that he was a little zombie before a shower in the morning.

Outside the camp was already busy. Hazy fog dampened the air and made it heavy.

Gibbs was the first outside and eyed the small crowd that was waiting for them beyond their little corner of the camp.  He promptly, and with Tony’s silent approval, ordered the kids back into the bonding suite and closed the door.

Ellison was standing guard at the open side of the triangle created by the van and the mobile bathroom, he was keeping the riff-raff at bay but couldn’t get them to shut up.

The scout leader wanted to interview the children. The FBI Agent, Tony remembered his face but not his name, that stood half behind Sacks radiated frustration because he wasn’t allowed to come near the newly bonded pair. Even the harmless question about what they might prefer to eat for breakfast rubbed Tony the wrong way. Not even the tea he had yearned for a little while ago tempted him now. The only people who weren’t shouting stupid questions at them were Sandburgh and Ellison. Tony didn’t see Fornell, who had apparently bought a clue and made himself scarce.

Blair was sitting on the crates outside, took one look at Tony, mumbled _oh yeah_ and bulldozed over everyone who tried to detract the little family from departure.  “Everyone, you saw them, they didn’t kill each other. I told you it was a bad idea to overwhelm them. Now, go away!”

Sacks nodded at Tony and then sauntered away, herding most of the stragglers.

One holdout was mulishly holding his position. “They have to give formal statements!” The flunky brandished his notebook.

Tony twitched and balled his hands to fists, and the emotion displayed by his face made the FBI Agent suddenly decide that discretion was the better part of valor. The notebook was slowly and carefully handed to the senior Sentinel and the Agent scampered away.

“Joined operations are a pain in the ass.” Ellison commented wisely and set the notebook aside without giving it any attention. “Chain of command is so unclear. I’ll have to talk to the director of the FBI.”

Gibbs aura radiated amusement. “Dinozzo? Relax.”

“He can’t.” Blair sighed.

“Why?” Any amusement left the arctic blue eyes.

And why wasn’t Tony asking the question himself? He opened his mouth, hesitated and closed it again. A frustrated moan wretched itself out of his throat.

Blair got up from his crate. “The kids aren’t going to accept their, ahem, protective custody for long, so we’ll make this short.”

“That would be a first.” mumbled Ellison not quietly enough, it earned him a playful elbow in the ribs.

“Hush you. Tony? Just listen, ok?”

Well, he could hardly do much else. He certainly didn’t want to open his mouth because he was sure that what came out wouldn’t be civil.

“I’ve told you this before, we took a shortcut and it messed up the natural process quite a bit. Sentinels take care of physical threats against the tribe, their Guides take care of the mental health of their Sentinels by providing a stable physical baseline for the Sentinel’s senses. This baseline is established during the initial bonding phase.”

That wasn’t secret knowledge only handed to the initiated; More like Sentinel 101.

Blair must have read his face or his aura because he shrugged his shoulders and smiled apologetically. “The flipside isn’t as well known. Guides keep their, let’s call it aura sensitivity, tuned to disturbances in the emotional network of a tribe – an early warning system for unrest, too much stress and other dangers - and their Sentinels are responsible for providing the mental barrier between their Guide and everyone else so the guide doesn’t get lost in all the outside emotional hub-tub. And that shield is established during the nesting period too. It’s a very balanced, equal partnership. And because of the interrupted nesting-“

“Neither my senses, nor his shields are fully functional.” Gibbs’ lips turned into a grim line. “I’ve seen comrades come online and go feral in the field, some bonded to compatible Guides in my platoon. None of them reacted like Dinozzo.”

Tony reared back and sent a wide and wounded look at his Sentinel.

Blair had the scolding and disappointed professor look down to a t. “Yeah, sure, big guy. This bonding in stages we’re dealing with here hasn’t been done before, as far as I know. How often does a field unit have a strong enough bonded Guide at hand to even try and buffer the new Guide instead of nature taking over?”

The question was rethorical because everybody knew the answer to that one.

“Will the shortcut hurt Dinozzo in the long run?”

Ellison took a step closer to his Guide, his eyes never leaving his fellow Sentinel.  “You just need what every other pair requires: enough peace and no interruptions so you’ll even out and anchor yourself securely.”

Tony’s instinct currently told him to shove everyone away with words and fists because they were the only defences he had, but his brain told him that it wouldn’t help. All the internal struggling was wasting energy that should instead go into maintaining his and his Sentinel’s mental defenses.

Tony had avoided actively using his shields during the last eight years, the few times he had to it had given him migraines. That didn’t mean that he hadn’t been aware of the emphatic net that connected every human being in a society. Now he wasn’t an observer at the edge of the net anymore, he was at the center and each little nub radiated feedback. He couldn’t turn it off. All those faint but numerous foreign minds ‘spoke’ to him without directly touching Tony. It would be overwhelming agony to sort out so much input. Something- no, someone acted like an invisible barrier. Gibbs.

“We have a lot of Sentinel friendly things that help keep people with enhanced senses balanced but nobody has invented artificial mental shields yet. Tony, you need to shore up your natural ones. Otherwise the travel home will be pure agony.” Blairs voice wasn’t as soothing as Tony remembered it to be.

“How?” Gibbs asked and Tony could tell by the way he lowered his eyebrows and clenched his teeth that the agent was getting more impatient.

“You’ll not relax unless your kids are within reach, so they’ll stay safe in the van. Jim and I will keep anyone from interrupting you. The how? That’s simple, glut yourself on each other, power snuggle.” Blair beamed at them like a proud parent.

“Ok. Fine. Good.” Tony pressed out. “I’m not a defective freak, I’m just special. And did the Alpha Prime Guide for North America just tell me to have a quickie while he and his Sentinel are _not_ watching?”

Next moment he was snatched and shoved against the closed outer door of the bonding van. There wasn’t time for a yelp, or to defend himself. Gibbs pressed in between Tony’s lightly spread legs, one of his arms held Tony securely steady , the free hand grabbed the younger man’s chin in a firm grip. They were so close that it was obvious how uninterested Gibbs was in anything sexual at the moment.

“Ah. We’ll leave you to it.” Ellison grabbed his own guide and dragged him away until they had a respectable distance to uphold at least the appearance of privacy.

“What the hell?!?” Tony got a strong sense of deja-vue. He was once again unable to free himself, neither his body from being held captive, nor his eyes from the sharp blue gaze that captured his.  It was as if Gibbs was trying to enforce his command by sheer willpower alone. Shoving his hands against Gibbs’ shoulders was embarrassingly ineffectual so he grabbed onto them as anchors instead. The closeness helped to clear his mind though and freed his tongue.

“Never even think it again. You’re not a freak.” Gibbs let go of Tony’s chin and tapped him in the forehead. “Erase that shit from your brain.” A slight shift of his body and the mass alone was holding the younger man up.

“You are a cave-man! Flintstones, your new neighbor has escaped the valley.” Tony snarked and squirmed, just to be contrary. “I’ve earned my issues, I’ve got the right to pamper them.” He was of the professional opinion that Anthony D. Dinozzo Jr. had a very healthy self-esteem with some well defined and cordoned off sink holes.

“I hate it when you insult yourself.”

“Don’t get mushy on us and tell me that I’m perfect.” Tony pouted comically and let his muscles go loose. Their eyes were still focused on each other. Tony felt Jethro’s finger carding through the hair at the back of his head.

“You’re a clothes horse. And vain. You snore and hog the covers. Perfect you aren’t. But you’re not a freak.” Gibbs reinforced the last sentence with soft tugs on Tony’s hair, one tug per word.

“Such a charmer. And why do you think that I’m vain?”

“Your nails are polished, Dinozzo.”

Tony gaped at him.

“I’m an investigator. You’ve stuck your finger in my mouth. Repeatedly. Of course I’ve noticed.”

“We’ll never, ever talk about it again.” Tony moaned. He could feel his cheeks heating up but it only served to make Gibbs more smug.

“Squeamish, hm? Never would have thought you’d get upset about a little spit.” With a predatory smirk and fast as a snake Gibby leaned forward and began to lick at Tony’s throat. Tongue, teeth and sucking lips worried the sensitive skin and the surprised Guide could only blink, moan and cling to his partner while his body went from embarrassed to excited in record time.

“Damn it, Jethro, don’t you dare!”

Gibbs let up a bit, tried for an innocently inquiring glance and failed miserably.

Tony sucked air into his lungs. and firmly told little Tony ‘no.’ He really didn’t want to change his clothes again. The strangeness of the scene suddenly awakened his sense for the hilarious and he grinned wildly. “There’s kinky hot exchange of body fluids-“ He rubbed himself against the hard body pinning him to illustrate his point but not enough to start something more serious. “and there’s yucky. What I did in the car is the second!”

“Yucky? Really Tony?”

“Sue me, I’m being influenced by my seven year old son.” Tony smiled and touched the place where Gibbs had worked his magic on his throat. It felt wet, a little swollen and he could place bets that he now sported the mother of all hickies.

Gibbs carefully stood him back on his own feet. “It worked, didn’t it. All better now.”

 _Huh_. Tony tilted his head. The uneasiness was still there in the background, yes, but he felt more in balance.

“Restroom, breakfast to go and then we’ll leave.”

That was a wonderful plan of action, Tony approved, but first-

He pulled Jethro back and doled out some short lived and intense payback. His mate’s services as a valet weren’t needed afterward, but it was a close call.

++++++++

Kelly had immediately claimed shotgun, with a mad cackle and to Michael’s loud protests, which left the three males of their newly formed family unit sharing the backseat. Which sounded more uncomfortable than it was in reality. Tony might have looked forward to getting some more snuggling with Gibbs in.

It was a nice car, fairly big and more luxurious than the typical FBI issued vehicles and Sentinel friendly, of course. It figured that the Center splurged on things like this and the smooth ride should help Tony relax. It didn’t. Beeing cooped up in a car with a teenager, a child, their SGC nanny slash driver and his newly bonded Sentinel was eroding all of Tony’s shields again. The center had insisted on providing transport and driver. Despite Ron Sacks' lack in formal Sentinel and Guide wrangling he would have been the better choice.

Tony kept silent, earning himself Gibbs’ intense scrutiny and concerned glances from his son. Kelly didn’t know what the others were disturbed by but took her cues from them very fast and uneasily observed the people around them.

And the nameless nanny was keeping his eyes on the passengers more than the road.

As a, he sighed, ‘dedicated, attentive Guide’ Tony should be pleased that he didn’t have to worry about Gibbs reacting negatively to the unfamiliar environment. Instead the green eyed man was fidgeting in his seat and was again more concerned about not snapping at everyone rather than doing guidy things. Tony took a deep breath. A calculating, visual check on the NCIS agent told him that Gibbs’ broad shoulders were loose, his posture relaxed and by the way the corners of his mouth twitched he was amused by whatever their kids were squabbling about.

Tony should use the time to get to know his new core pride better. Nobody could avoid him here, short of flinging themselves out of the car. His natural inclination was to involve his company into lively conversation to distract people from unavoidable stress but for some reason the BAU Agent couldn’t flip that inner switch. He wasn’t interested in trying to match genres and movies to his companions’ personalities. Tony wanted to be home - yesterday, if you please.

He caught another stare from the driver observing him via the mirror and it made Tony gnash his teeth.

“Oh, whatever.” Why was he torturing himself for no good reason but his pride, not wanting to appear weak before the observer? Tony wretched the seatbelt down over his right shoulder to free his arm and gain more movement and the wriggled until he was halfway lying on Gibbs again, similar to their positions when they’d been tranquilized.

“Headache back again?” Gibbs asked and flung his right arm around his Guide to make room.

Tony nodded. If he hadn’t watched for it he would have missed the Sentinel’s calculating look in direction of their driver.

Kelly and Michael ignored the adults' antics, maybe after sharing a bed the night before this wasn’t too strange for them.

“Close your eyes and try to sleep.”

“You make a comfy recliner.” It seemed as if his mate was alert and on the job so Tony could relax. He really could get used, nay, addicted to the feeling of fingers carding through his hair, it was soothing. It had only been a small tease, Gibbs shoulder was indeed a nice pillow. He only had to do something about the material of his partner’s sweater, the roughness of the weave was downgrading an otherwise memorable rest.

How a Sentinel could stand the low quality garment was beyond Tony. There was a trip to a clothing store in Gibbs’ future, one that wasn’t named Sears. And if he proved to be difficult, which Tony suspected he would be-. Tony rubbed his head back into the caress and drifted off.

++++++++++++

The car slowing down and comming to a halt for more than an interception made him wake up. Tony yawned, pleased that his headache was nearly gone. His leg on the other hand was making it clear that it wouldn’t take much more abuse.

“Finally!” a female voice exclaimed, accompanied by a car door being flung open with force.

The noise startled Tony into an upright position. A sense of alarm from his Sentinel had him fully alert.

“Stay in the car, Kelly!” Gibbs barked and then got out himself, uncaring for any danger directed at him, the fool.

Tony expected Kelly to be contrary in typical teenage fashion but she followed her father’s orders.

“You too, squirt. Let us check if everything is all right. We’ve got enough surprises the last days, eh?” He ruffled Michael’s hair, waited for the boy to nod and then followed his partner out of the car.

Gibbs was at least using the vehicle as cover. Open door and muscular Sentinel didn’t leave much room for the Guide to get a good footing. Tony stumbled and then sat back down on the car seat, reached out and touched his Sentinel at the wrist.

“There are two strangers inside my house and a moving van in the parking lot. No other unfamiliar people.”

“Let’s not check the whole neighborhood, ok? Pull back and don’t go Rambo on us. I can confirm easily if those two are my friends.”

Gibbs bristled and glowered at the building.

“No maiming my friends!” Tony searched for his phone, flipped it open and dialed. It didn’t take long for someone to answer.

“Hey Tonio! Are you and Michael all right?” Nathan McLeod’s voice answered the call.

“Yep, all of us safe and sound. Is Pete with you?”

“Of course. And I guess that’s your ride out front? Big, grey car screaming government agency? If it isn’t I’ll call the cavalry.”

“Nope, it’s ours. Good guess. Have Pete say something so my hypervigilant Sentinel doesn’t classify him as a threat.” Tony waited until he heard his other old friend greet him and then nodded to Gibbs.

“We’ll come out, Tonio. This is like one of your stupid spy movies.” The connection was closed.

The two people who exited the house couldn’t have been more different in appearance. One of them, Peter Lancelot Dawning, was tall and reedy with skin like dark chocolate and eyes to match, the other man was white skinned, with fair hair and grey eyes and just a little bit taller than Dr. Sandburgh. Nathan was drifting towards chubby. Not much, but the extra padding on his middle was something Tony would tease him for mercilessly. Tony beamed at his two friends and held out his arms, turned on his axis once (without going wonky, he was so proud of himself!) so they could assure themselves that he was in good, if not mint, condition.

Normally he would expect claps on the back and manly bro-hugs, but someone must have instructed them that Gibbs would, in his current state of hyper alertness, wretch their arms out of the sockets before their hands could get near his guide. That, or something equally dire and bloody, because Pete and Nate eyed the former marine like he was some dangerous feral beast.

Both were very formal when they addressed his Sentinel and while they introduced themselves.

“We won’t stay long! Dr. Mallard adviced us that it would be better if Special Agent Gibbs could match our two scent profiles to the ones he’ll encounter in the house. ” Nate tried to placate the beast.

Gibbs tilted his head and raised one of his eyebrows.

Pete gave a fast rundown on the changes they’ve made and only interrupted his concise report to wave at Michael who was ushered into the house by Kelly, both kids loaded down with their luggage. “-all the boxes were moved to the garage, the little one’s bed, his desk and the dresser are now in the emptied room. We’ve left all but one bookshelf and most of his toys at your apartment. Don’t glare Agent Gibbs, I know that this wasn’t on the agenda but we couldn’t have let Dr. Mallard do all the work. He’s a great old guy, no question, but he shouldn’t carry heavy things, no matter what he says. And Nate took a trip to the hardware store and installed the ramp. We thought Tonio might have to use it after living rough for a few days.”

Ramp? Now that he wasn’t primed for trouble Tony had time to pay more attention to his new home. Architecture had never been one of his interests but he guessed that this wasn’t a bad example for a typical family home. Two stories and attic windows suggested lots of space and everything looked well maintained, from the fresh coat of paint to the sturdy looking roof. The raised basement, ideal so small windows could let some light underground, necessitated three stairs and a small porch to reach the entrance door. Which would be a pain to climb on his bad days, thus the ramp. It was obviously new, the wood of the railing not stained and a glaringly different color than the shutters and the door.

“And Dr. Mallard is currently where?” Gibbs snapped.

Pete rolled his eyes. He had overcome some of his initial fear. “Dude, relax! You make it sound like we’ve murdered and then ate him. The doc has gone out for some groceries because, and I quote, ‘the available sustenance in this kitchen is appalling and in no way reasonable for a monkey, never mind a Sentinel-Guide pair and their family’.”

“You’ll get a lengthy lecture.” Nathan predicted and sounded not at all sorry for NCIS agent. “I think that’s all and we’ll leave you to sorting out the rest.”

“I owe you both, thank you so much.” Tony made sure that his face and tone expressed how truly thankful he was for their taking the time to help them.

“Invite us to dinner sometimes soon, cook your famous spaghetti carbonara and add handmade tiramisu for dessert and we’re even.” Pete laughed, took a step in his direction and then reconsidered when Gibbs began to growl.

Tony watched his friends leave and threw a calculating narrow eyed look at his Sentinel. Instincts or no instincts running rampart, the man didn’t have to be so rude to his friends. They hadn’t considered that Ducky would be unable to do it all and his friends had helped, they deserved some gratitude, not grumpiness. Maybe a little teasing was called for. Tony sniggered.

“What?” Gibbs gave him the stink-eye. Every restraint promptly flew out the window and Tony grinned at him.

“Well- big, bad Special Agent Sentinel hard as nails Marine and your house looks like it could be used for a Rockwellian suburbia catalogue. You know the sort a 50is housewife would go gaga over.”

“That I don’t like sleek and modern is a surprise to you? So much for your investigating me.”

“There’s a fine but important difference between researching and stalking!” Tony sniffed derisively and sauntered through the small, well groomed front garden. The little birdhouse hanging from the tree was a work of art. It had a little porch and railing. Tony strongly suspected that it was used as a poop perch rather than keeping the feathered darlings from falling off, but what did he know about birds?

The SGC flunkie had left their bags and the wheelchair on the sidewalk. Before driving away he informed them that he was reporting back to the Center. The parking spot was filled by a spectacular authentic Morgan within seconds.

Tony whistled admiringly. Not sporty enough for him personally, but he could appreciate a beautiful car. He was so distracted that he didn’t pay attention to the owner.

“I restored her myself.” A kind voice made him turn his head.

Dr. Mallard smiled at Tony indulgently.

„Granducky!“  Kelly’s  high, excited squeal made every male in the vicinity, not just the Sentinel, cringe. They watched the slip of a girl dart out of the house and hug the old Gentleman enthusiastically. The onlookers grinned when she babbled at Dr. Mallard without pause. Tony hadn’t been able to get a good grip on the MEs personality and quirks yet but from the one conversation and a few things Gibbs had said he could guess that it wasn’t often that Ducky was unable to get a word in edgewise.

Michael had followed Kelly and took the widest possible path around the uneven pair. Then he hid halfway behind Tony.

“Dad.”

“Everything all right?” Tony looked down and then surveyed the scene, searching for the reason why Michael would look like he’d seen a ghost.

His son gave him one of his famous ‘you are stupid’ looks. “Ducky likes to talk to dead people. And he’s cutting them up! Yuck.”

A strangled laugh escaped Gibbs and Tony glared at his Sentinel. Who, of course, was now busy pretending to be focused on the tale Kelly was spinning for her beloved Granducky .

“Uhm?” Tony unintelligently uttered. Small kids tended to be fairly morbid but-

“Kelly said so!”

And the word of his son’s new goddess was law. Tony’s glare intensified but it didn’t move Gibbs one iota. Instead of helping Tony with clearing up the mess his daughter caused, that bastard had an aggravating little smile playing around his lips.

“Well. Technically…” Tony had been told at length, at parent’s night, by busy-body moms who eyed him like he was Godiva chocolate, that tormenting a sibling was a fine art and a time honored tradition. Since he had been an only child – and times like this he was thankful for it – he couldn’t verify that rumor, but he thought Kelly’s sense of timing sucked. Michael didn’t need to add cut up corpses to his nightmares. Either Gibbs had to talk to that little missy or Tony would! Words like age appropriate themes and tasteless jokes would be used!

“Why is she hugging him, she knows where his hands have been!” Michael whimpered and made gagging noises.

“Dr. Mallard is working for NCIS morgue, which means he uhm- has to touch dead people. Kelly didn’t lie, she just left out a lot in her version of his job description.” Tony desperately searched for the right words. Ducky seemed to be a very kindhearted man and Tony didn’t want to alienate Michael further. “It’s similar to this story – or was it an animated series? – Blind mice examine only the tail of an elephant and then say that he is thin and wriggly but that’s only a tail and a tail does not the elephant make, and-“

“Dad.”

Tony aborted his attempt at metaphor. “Ducky isn’t cutting up people for fun and giggles. He’s a medical examiner, that’s his job title, and finding out how someone was killed helps to catch the murderers. And that’s why he has to look how everything looks… . On the inside.”

“Like a doctor at the hospital?”

“Dr. Mallard could practice regular medicine, if he wanted to. Taking out appendixes, fixing spleens, prescribing flu medicine; you know, the works. It’s a little bit like my job, come to think of it. I could theoretically work as a regular psychologist. I like fighting crime much more than doing something like couples counceling, though.” Boy, did he! The differences and requirements were a lot more complicated, but since he wasn’t giving a in depth lecture on the medical or psychological profession, the abridged versions would have to do.

Michael chewed on it.  They silently watched Kelly gesticulate wildly. She must have reached one of the more exciting parts of her story. “If we knew him when Mirabel was poisoned, we could have found out who’d done it? And they’d have been put in jail for murder!” Big, desperate eyes blinked up at Tony.

He kneeled down clumsily and wrapped the kid in his arms. Mirabel the Mighty had been a small yappy dog of undecided ancestry that Wendy had found abandoned behind a concert hall. After a flea-bath and a visit to the vet she had given it to Michael. Without consulting Tony first, but that was another story. The furry menace had loved its little master with all its doggy heart but for some unfathomable reason had loathed Tony. Hiding fine leather shoes (and anything else he held dear) from sharp dog teeth had been a lesson the father had learned damn fast. Nevertheless he had been furious when some hateful idiot laid out poisoned sausages at the park. The little mutt had died in pain and Michael had been heartbroken for weeks.

“Yeah, he could have helped. Ducky could have told us which poison was used, at least.”

“Should we go and get Mira’s body? So he can look?”

“I don’t want to disturb her rest. It’s been too long anyway. ” Tony soothed. He was proud that his son was trying to use such logical means to deal with this old hurt but he really, really didn’t want to explain decomposition to him. Or dig up that dog after it had been buried for one and a half years.

Michael nodded and hid his face in Tony’s sweater.

Tony sent some harsh emotional spikes at his brand-new partner. He laid the blame for this firmly on gibbsian shoulders old and young. At least he felt the Sentinel’s emotional output shift to sincere concern and, dare he say it?, remorse when faced with the little boy’s upset. Which was good for Gibbs, because otherwise Tony would have slugged the bastard first thing after getting him alone!

Gibbs abandoned any pretense of not spying on their conversation and strode over.

“Hey little buddy.”

“Sorry for being such a crybaby.” Michael mumbled and did his best to wipe away the tears on his cheeks.

The former marine dug into his trouser pockets and unearthed a wrinkled but clean white and blue checkered cotton handkerchief which he solemly offered the boy.  “Can’t stand it when people start the waterworks just to get out of trouble. You’re not doing that. Nothing wrong with honest tears. Bawled like a baby myself when my own dog died.”

Child and man engaged in a staring contest. Tony watched and crossed his fingers that they got whatever they wanted to get out of it. The conversation hadn’t only drawn Tony’s full attention. The background chatter had ceased.

Tony, trusting that Gibbs somewhat knew what he was doing, turned his head. It shouldn’t be difficult for Kelly to guess the original reason why Michael was upset, she had to have told him about her Granducky’s ‘hobby’ before they came outside. Hopefully she now regretted it – or maybe she didn’t. Tony’s emphatic sense was still on the frizz but something made him take a closer look at his new step-daughter and the conflicting emotions that chased each other over her face. The girl was holding onto Dr. Mallard like a favorite teddybear, her chin raised stubbornly.

Damn it.

Kelly could have hardly selected a worse day to prank Michael. Gibbs was reacting positively to the company of his old friend. He had relaxed the second he had seen Mallard. Hell, anything that made that stubborn man behave less like a Marine on the parade ground was good. 

A loud sniff, followed by the sound of someone energetically blowing their nose made Tony look down again.

“Where’s the bin?” Michael held up the now damp piece of cloth.

Gibbs chuckled. “Throw it away? Nha. We’ll wash it. T’will be as good as new.” He stretched. “I’m gonna take a look what your uncles have done to my house.”

When Gibbs passed the group of two in front of his treshhold his left arm casually swang and he delivered a slight head-slap, accompanied by a piercing look, to his daughter. It couldn’t have hurt, there wasn’t enough force behind the slap but the girl cringed.

Michael was too occupied with contemplating the hanky to notice anything else.  Kids and their mood swings were truly a marvel.

“Pretty old-fashioned, isn’t he?” His son tilted his head to the side, his green eyes swept over the handmade birdhouse and all the other homely little details that had never been part of their domestic landscape before. Only the state of the art security system on the door and the discrete security company sticker on the garden fence disturbed the picture. Cozy, traditional and down to earth weren’t attributes anyone would give the typical Dinozzo abode.

“There better be cable!” Michael suddenly yelped, horrified by visions of a TV-less future.

No cable? Tony blanched and then relaxed again. “Gibbs might be satisfied with a stone age TV with free snowfall on every channel all around the clock but Kelly is a different case. Can you imagine a teenage girl without a good television set and the cable service to match?”

“Can you imagine ME without my favorite shows? Kelly!!! Tell me this is not going to be `The Daltons’ 2.0, please!”

Off he went and dragged Kelly away back into the house with no further attention payed to the smiling ME or his amused father. They could hear the boy loudly demanding to be shown proof that he wouldn’t be forced into tech-withdrawal by night.

That left Mallard and Tony on the lawn, with Gibbs, Tony would bet his own beloved Mustang on it, keeping his ears on them from the inside of the house.

“Now, young man, what have you done to your leg? Why are you still standing, sit down, there’s a perfectly serviceable wheelchair behind you. Let’s get you inside and then I’ll take a look.”

It was the kind of soft but insistently kind attention that didn’t leave any room for retreat.

TBC


End file.
